Wakeup Call
by All Hail Hufflepuff
Summary: When Tony stumbles out of bed and answers his door at three in the morning he has no idea that his life is about to change forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_This is my first NCIS story so I hope I've managed to capture the characters properly. This is set in an alternative universe where the team haven't met Tony's father yet - since I want to portray him as a more sinister character than the one portrayed by Robert Wagner - and they also haven't discovered Gibbs' big dark secret either and gone through all that drama. This is non-compliant with season eight. Also I really don't like 'skinny McGee' so try to think of him as being slighty heavier in this story. Oh yeah, from a purely aesthetic point of view, Tony is still lean and gorgeous (no offence Michael Weatherly) lol._

**Chapter One**

"Five more minutes," he groaned, rolling onto his other side and pulling the pillow over his head.

_**KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!**_

He sighed and rolled back over, peering blearily at his alarm clock. If his exhausted, blurry vision was to be believed then it was barely three o'clock in the morning. Rolling onto his back, he scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and groaned in frustration. _God_, he thought, _why can't I ever get a decent night sleep?_ He sat up, scratching his head, making his tousled hair even messier. Yawning, he swung his legs to the floor and unsteadily rose to his feet, thankful that he had gone to bed wearing boxers and a T-shirt and not naked like he usually preferred.

_**KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!**_

"This had better be good," he muttered grumpily, stumbling from his darkened bedroom.

Slowly, he made his way along the hallway to the living room, cursing when he stubbed his toe on a lamp. Finally, he made it to the front door of his apartment just as the knocking sounded again. He squinted through the peephole, palms flat against the wood of his door. "Huh?" he said, frowning. There didn't appear to be anyone outside his apartment. "What is this _Poltergeist?_"

Grumbling to himself, he unbolted the locks and pulled open the door. He failed to contain the small gasp that escaped him as his gaze fell upon the small figure standing on the threshold, who stared up at him with large hazel eyes. He wasn't completely sure what he'd expected to find but it certainly wasn't this. _Okay, don't panic_, he thought hastily, feeling all traces of sleep leave him, _you're a special agent. You can handle this!_

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "Everything okay?"

The little girl clutched the stuffed bunny rabbit she was holding closer to her chest and stared back at him in silence.

"Are you lost?" he tried again. "Where's your Mommy?" He leaned out of the doorway and glanced up and down the corridor, finding it empty except for the child and himself.

Yet again the girl failed to respond, and simply continued to stare at him with those intense hazel eyes of hers.

"C'mon, kid, help me out here!" he said in frustration.

Perhaps it was something in his expression that finally got through to her because suddenly she was holding out a folded piece of paper to him. Bemused, he took it and unfolded it, reading the brief message scrawled across it. It read:

'_Tony, this is Megan your daughter. I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now, but I can't handle this anymore. She's your problem now.' _

He read it three times before the words finally sank in, then his chest tightened and panic set in. _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!_ He tried to take a calming breath but his lungs didn't seem to be functioning properly. _This can't be happening! How can this be happening?_ If there was one thing Anthony DiNozzo could be proud of, it was the fact he was always extremely careful with the women he slept with. He always used protection. Always! Okay, so maybe he might have been a little less careful right after… he broke off that train of thought and forced himself to focus on the here and now. He turned his attention back to the little girl, Megan, according to the note. For the first time, he noticed the purple rucksack strapped to her back and the small, pink, carryon suitcase by her feet. _This has gotta be a mistake! There's no way I'm her father_. Part of him – a small, selfish part that was currently pissing its pants – wanted to slam the door closed on her face, escape out the window and flee the country until somebody could fix this mess. The other part of him – the part which had given him the courage to go against his father's wishes and pursue a football career instead of joining the family business – forced him to swallow his denials and fears for the time being, and usher the little girl inside.

He closed and locked the door behind them, flicked the light switch and led her towards the couch. Mutely, she sat down on the edge of the sofa cushion and scooted backwards until her legs were dangling over the edge. Tony sat down on the coffee table, taking a moment to study the child in front of him. At a passing glance, you would be forgiven for thinking she was a little boy, what with her light blonde surfer boy hairstyle that fell into her eyes, and her tomboyish attire; baggy denim jeans, purple converse sneakers, a red hoodie, and a black T-shirt with a pink skull and crossbones design on the front. _Abby would love this kid's sense of style_, he thought with an inner smile. However, Tony was certain no little boy could ever be as small and delicate as she was, with such tiny hands, and surely eyelashes that long would just look silly on a boy. He was no expert but if he had to guess her age he would have to say she was somewhere under five. She was still staring at him, looking so lost and afraid that he felt compelled to say something to set her at ease.

"Look, Megan, right? I know you must be scared but . . . everything's going to be okay. We'll figure this out, I promise," he told her, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Unfortunately, Megan didn't look the least bit reassured. He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "It's late," he said, "and I'm pretty sure its way past your bedtime." He stood up. "C'mon, time to hit the rack. You can sleep in my bed tonight, I'll take the couch."

He turned back when he realized she wasn't following him. Megan hadn't moved from her position on the couch and was staring straight ahead. Tony sighed again. God, who was he kidding? He sucked when it came to dealing with kids. He supposed it was down to his own inadequate upbringing, it's not as if his father had provided him with the tools to handle children. After all, half of the time Anthony senior barely seemed to notice he had a son, and as for the other half…

Tony leaned against the back of the couch and tapped her on the shoulder, instantly feeling a pang of guilt when she jumped in fright. She turned tremulous eyes toward him.

"Easy," he said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt yah." He fought the urge to sigh again; nothing he did or said seemed to have any affect on her, she still looked just as afraid as when he'd first opened the door. _C'mon, DiNozzo, think! What would Gibbs do?_ Bracing himself for her reaction he reached forward and brushed her hair out of her eyes. He expected her to flinch, or jump back or maybe even to slap his hand away, so he was surprised, therefore, when she remained still and even more surprised when the gesture seemed to finally make her relax. He shifted his hand to the top of her head and stroked his fingers through the soft, silky strands of hair, summoning a small smile to his lips when he saw the last traces of fear leave her eyes, replaced by curiosity. Moving around the sofa he helped her shrug the rucksack off her shoulders and lifted her into his arms. Tony felt another leap of surprise as Megan instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to his bedroom and set her down on his bed. After removing her hoodie and pulling off her shoes he laid her down and pulled the comforter around her.

"Get some sleep," he said, moving to the door, pausing long enough to watch her rollover and close her eyes.

He returned to the living room and collapsed on the couch. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, letting his mind go blank. _Great, now what do I do?_ And that was the question, wasn't it. Just how did he deal with this situation? _Well, first things first, I'm gonna need a paternity test._ Abby could easily run one for him. Of course, if he let Abby know about this then there was no way he could keep it from the others. Keep it from Gibbs. He closed his eyes and groaned. _Gibbs is gonna kill me._ The ex-marine was going to be furious when he found out about Megan, and worse than that, he'd be disappointed. If there was one thing Anthony DiNozzo hated it was to be a disappointment. His entire childhood he'd strived for his father's approval, never once receiving it. He pushed himself forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and cradling his face between his palms. _Oh God! This is so screwed up! What am I gonna do?_ He glanced over at the note, which he'd left on the coffee table.

"It's gotta be a mistake," he muttered. "I can't have a kid! It's just not possible."

With Megan asleep and out of sight Tony felt his calm facade rapidly crumbling as he descended once again into mind-numbing panic. He snatched up the note, reading through it again, as if hoping it would suddenly reveal some new clues. _This is insane! _He tried and failed to calm his slightly erratic breathing. _This chick has to have me mixed up with some other Tony._ He wasn't father material! He was Tony DiNozzo; loud, brass and immature! He didn't know how to take care of a child. Hell, he couldn't even take care of sea-monkeys never mind a kid! He suddenly found himself on his feet and pacing, though he couldn't recall standing.

"Okay, think, DiNozzo. We need a plan of action!" he muttered to himself, striding back and forth between the sofa and coffee table. "Alright, I'll sneak into work early with the kid and hide in Abby's lab until she can do a paternity test."

He paused momentarily as he imagined his father's response to such an idea. _DiNozzos don't sneak, Junior, and they certainly do not hide!_ Tony could almost hear that deep, pompous voice, inflecting each word with contempt and authority; it was as if the man himself was here in the room with him – summoned by his memories – and Tony fought the urge to glance about the room to be sure he was alone. He started pacing again.

"Okay," he began again, attempting to instill confidence in his tone. "I will arrive promptly at work and stride confidently into the building, acting as if nothing is amiss – _despite_ the fact that I have a _child_ in tow – I will then take the elevator to Abby's lab and wait for her to do a paternity test."

He came to another stop. What the hell did he do after that? Would that be the right time to tell Gibbs? He grimaced. Somehow he couldn't picture that conversation ending well. _'Hey, Gibbs, you'll never guess what happened to me this morning, it seems there's a good chance I impregnated some woman whose name I don't know and, oh yeah, this mystery woman "accidently" ditched the kid at my door without leaving a forwarding address.'_ Considering he was unlikely to live very long after such a conversation perhaps it would be safer to postpone it until he could gather more information.

"Which means, I gotta figure out who Megan's mom is." With a groan Tony dropped back onto the couch. "How the hell am I gonna do that?"

His eyes fell upon the note once more. With a leap of inspiration, he launched himself out of his seat. _Abby could lift prints from it!_ He was halfway to the kitchen – in search of an evidence bag he was sure he had stashed away somewhere – when a flaw in his plan suddenly occurred to him. Lifting prints from the note would only help him if Megan's mother had her prints in AFIS, and the odds of this woman having a record were extremely unlikely; he didn't exactly make it a habit to date criminals, and despite what everyone may think, he _did_ have some standards about the women he slept with. _Still, can't hurt to try._

In the end, he had to make do with a Resealable sandwich bag to preserve the evidence on the note. Feeling significantly calmer, Tony retrieved a blanket from the hall closet, switched off the light and settled down on the couch. _Everything will be fine,_ he told himself, closing his eyes. _The paternity tests will come back negative, we'll track down this woman and make her understand that this is just some big misunderstanding and she and Megan will go on their merry way and everything will go back to normal._ He was deluded if he thought it would be that easy but if it helped him sleep for the time being then, so be it.

Things would have gone a great deal smoother later that morning if only Tony had remembered to set an alarm on his cell phone. Unfortunately, with Megan in his room and Tony in the living room, he didn't hear his alarm clock go off and therefore slept through it.

_**BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! **_

Tony frowned in his sleep and tried to swat away an imaginary bee.

_**BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! **_

He groaned in frustration and swiped his arm fiercely through the air above his head in an attempt to rid himself of the annoying insect.

_**BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! **_

_Wait! That's not a bee, that's my …! _With a jolt he sat up. "Agh! What? I'm up, I'm up, I'm – _SHIT!_" He leapt off the sofa, limbs heavy with sleep flailing, and pounced on his cell phone, which he'd left on the floor the night before plugged into the charger. Reaching it just in time he flipped it open and smashed it against his ear. "DiNozzo!" he gasped into the speaker.

"_Tony! Where the _hell_ are you?"_ demanded the imperious Israeli tones of one Ziva David. _"You are over an hour late for work! I've already left you three messages! Is there a reason you haven't answered any of your calls?"_

Tony baulked. _Over an hour late?_ _Aw crap!_ So much for sneaking in unnoticed.

"Sorry, Ziva, I slept in," he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"_Were you drinking last night?"_ she asked incredulously.

"No!" It was true, he'd been a good boy last night, he'd stayed at home and watched DVDs, he'd even gone to bed early and he would've been at work on time if it hadn't been for his disturbing 3 A.M. wakeup call. The silence on the other end of the phone was skeptical. "_I wasn't!_"

"_Then how did you manage to sleep in?"_

"It's . . . complicated." He didn't appreciate her contemptuous snort as he mentioned the 'C' word. "Look, I'll explain when I get in! Has . . . has Gibbs noticed I'm not there?" he asked, dreading the answer. The last thing he wanted to do was inform an already pissed off Gibbs that he'd been saddled with some kid he may or may not be the father to.

"_Fortunately, no, he has not noticed. Gibbs has been in a meeting in MTAC all morning."_

Tony sighed in relief. There was hope for him yet. "Great, look I'm on my way. If Gibbs comes out of MTAC before I get in, stall him for me."

"_How do you expect me to –!"_

Tony snapped the phone shut before Ziva could finish. The sound of soft footfalls made him glance over his shoulder to see Megan walk around the couch. She stopped and stared at him in bewilderment. He supposed he must look quite a sight sprawled on his stomach on the floor with the blanket tangled around his legs.

"Good morning!" he said, pulling on his famous mega watt smile. "Sleep well?"

Her only answer was to rub the sleep from her eyes using her knuckles. Tony refused to admit the action was sort of cute. The last thing he planned on doing was forming a bond with the kid. The sooner he got shot of her the better. He pushed off from the floor and got to his feet.

"Hey, I'm kinda running late for work so I need you to get yourself changed while I grab a quick shower," he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "A really, really quick shower."

He wasn't sure why he was expecting a response from her, after all it wasn't as if she'd spoken a single word to him since he'd found her, still it was no less frustrating when she just stood there and stared at him blankly. What the hell was he doing wrong? Sure he sucked with kids but it had never been _this_ bad before. Usually he got _some_ kind of reaction out of them. With Megan it was just stony silence and a look of bemusement. It was almost like being around Gibbs! He sighed in annoyance.

"C'mon, kid, work with me here! I know this is all confusing and scary and I'm trying my best here, I _really_ am, but I need your help!" he exclaimed irritably. "Can you dress yourself? Huh? Did your mommy teach you how to dress yourself?"

Megan's response was a small frown. Tony barely resisted the urge to grab his hair and snarl in exasperation. What had he done to deserve this?

"Alright, I'll skip the shower and help you dress," he said, grabbing her rucksack and suitcase and ushering her from the room. "But we really need to hurry, okay? My boss is already gonna kick my ass once he finds out about you and if he finds out I'm late too . . . well, lets just say the results wont be pretty." Reaching his bedroom he sat down on his bed and zipped open the small pink suitcase. "Let's see what we've got."

With some trepidation he stared at all the tiny outfits folded neatly in the suitcase. He hesitated a moment before pulling out a blue, long-sleeved T-shirt with the words 'little miss sunny' scrawled across it, along with fresh socks and a pair of jeans. _Now for the tricky part,_ he thought, squirming slightly in embarrassment. _Think, Tony, how did your nanny do it?_

"Uh . . . arms up," he said, gesturing with the T-shirt. He felt a tiny leap of pride when she actually did as he asked. Feeling a little awkward, he pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside before helping her into the fresh one. He hesitated again when it came to her jeans. _Oh God, why the hell did I agree to this? Dressing a kid is really more a mother's job, maybe not _my_ mother but certainly most normal mothers._ "I'm . . . um, just gonna . . . you know, so we can err. . ."

He could feel himself blushing as she just stood there staring at him. Her gaze was cool and assessing as she chewed her lower lip. He wasn't sure why but Tony felt like he was being tested. Swallowing his remaining embarrassment he slipped off her old jeans and helped her step into the new ones, ignoring how small her hands looked as she braced herself against his forearms. He pulled her onto his lap to change her socks and put on her shoes.

"You know how to tie your laces?" he asked curiously, pretending he didn't notice how nice her hair smelled; like strawberries. "My nanny taught me how when I was five," he told her casually as he tied the laces of her left sneaker. "How old are you by the way?"

He really wasn't surprised when no answer was forthcoming. _This kid would do great in interrogation. _It was beginning to feel like Tony was speaking another language.

"You really don't want to talk to me, do you?" he said, smiling slightly. "Can't say I really blame yah, I'm something of an acquired taste."

He set her back on her feet and stood up, dashing to his dresser and whipping out a T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans.

"Get it in gear, DiNozzo," he muttered, ripping off his old shirt and stuffing his head and arms into the clean one. "Clock's ticking."

Tony already had one leg in his pants and was hopping up and down on one foot, attempting to shove his other leg through, when he suddenly lost his balance and toppled stupendously to the floor with a loud grunt. A peel of soft, gurgling laughter had him looking up from his prone position. Megan's face was split in a beautiful – yet disturbingly familiar – pearly white grin. It was the first time he'd seen her smile and he couldn't help but feel slightly dazzled by it and before he knew what he was doing, he felt a matching grin spread over his own face.

"Yah think that's funny, huh?" he asked, chuckling. He flipped onto his back and pulled his pants on the rest of the way.

After pulling on socks and shoes, Tony grabbed his gear and headed out the door, dragging Megan behind him by the hand. Breakfast could wait. It was time to face the music . . . and Gibbs.

The drive to the Navy Yard could only be described as tense. He tried many times to initiate conversation; foolishly hoping that their little moment back in his apartment had helped to get through to her. Unfortunately, this was not the case. His questions about her mother, her home, and her life all went unanswered. It wasn't that he didn't have her attention, from her position in the passengers' seat she sat turned towards him, avidly watching his face. It was just she didn't seem inclined to speak to him. _Maybe she's shy_, he thought fairly, _really, really shy._ Or maybe it was him she didn't like. Eventually he gave up and switched the radio on and after a while Megan's gaze drifted to the window.

He managed to get into the building with nothing more than a few funny looks and was able to reach the elevator before anyone could ask any awkward questions. He couldn't help but heave a small sigh of relief when the elevator doors finally slid open and he was able to step inside, towing Megan along with him. _Okay, Tony, now comes the tricky part; getting to Abby's lab without McGee and Ziva (and possibly Gibbs) noticing me._ How the hell was he going to do that? How was he going to get to the back elevator without the others seeing him? _Think, man, think!_ He was beginning to feel queasy. _This was such a bad idea,_ he thought miserably. _I should have gone on the run!_ Anxiously, he ran a hand through his hair and froze, suddenly realizing that his hair was sticking up on one side. _Aw crap! I should have gone for that shower; I must look like a freaking hobo! _Desperately, he tried to flatten the unruly spikes, growling in frustration when he felt his hair spring back up. He was rapidly losing his cool as the elevator approached the squad-room. He still had no idea how he was going to get to Abby's lab without anyone noticing his sloppy appearance and the small child following him. He shifted his feet restlessly as the elevator edged ever closer to his destination. _Gotta think of a plan. Gotta think of a plan!_ He closed his eyes and tapped his fist against his forehead. _I know! I'll cause some sort of diversion and slip past while everyone is distracted! But how do I cause a diversion?_

Before he could even begin to formulate a plan, the elevator shuddered to a stop. He opened his eyes just as the doors slid open with a _ding! _Tony felt his stomach plummet; he really must have the worst luck in the world. Only Anthony DiNozzo would have the misfortune to come face-to-face with the one person he so desperately wanted to avoid; Leroy Jethro Gibbs. _And the clouds opened up and God said: 'I hate you, Tony.'_

"Uh …"

"You're late, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, fixing Tony with that piercing blue gaze of his.

"Ha! You noticed that, huh?" said Tony, plastering a wide grin onto his lips. "See, I can explain that, boss …"

"Yeah?" said Gibbs, taking a step closer and raising a single eyebrow; daring Tony to make up one of his phony excuses again.

Tony chuckled nervously. "Yeah . . . I um . . . w-well, see what h-happened is …"

A movement behind Tony drew Gibbs' attention away from the senior field agent and onto Megan who was peering shyly up at the ex-marine from behind Tony's long legs. Tony held his breath. He watched numbly as a small frown appeared between Gibbs' eyebrows and then winced when the man's steely gaze snapped back to his face. _Prepare to die, DiNozzo._

"There something you wanna tell me, DiNozzo?" he asked sharply.

Tony opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like some bizarre, Italian breed of goldfish. This was harder than he'd imagined. How on earth did you explain something like this? "Errrr …"

"This the reason you're late?" demanded Gibbs.

"Yes, boss," said Tony meekly, bracing himself for Gibbs' reaction. "I found her at my door this morning, she –"

"Let me guess," Gibbs interrupted, "she had some sort of note saying you're her father."

"Yeah," said Tony, taken aback. "That's actually _exactly_ what happened. How'd you guess, boss?"

"Two reasons," said Gibbs. "Number one, considering the amount of women you've dated since I've known you, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."

_Ouch. I suppose I deserved that._ "And number two?"

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment with an expression Tony had never seen before. "She has your eyes, DiNozzo."

It was like a slap to the face. _What? That's, that's crazy talk!_ He was gawking open-mouthed at his boss and the bastard had the audacity to smirk at him before crouching down to Megan's eye level.

"So, what's your name then?" he asked, speaking in that soft, gentle tone he reserved for children.

Tony expected Megan to make a fool of him and start gabbing away to Gibbs like they were old friends. He'd seen it happen countless times before. Kids were just automatically drawn to Gibbs, as if the man had some kind of magnetic pull. So Tony was surprised, therefore, when Megan merely smiled and remained stubbornly mute. Tony wasn't the only one who looked surprised either, Gibbs had clearly expected more than a simple smile.

"Don't take it personally, boss, she hasn't strung two words together since I found her," said Tony bracingly. "According to the note her name is Megan."

"Strong silent type, huh?" said Gibbs. A wide grin spread across his face, transforming his features. "I can relate to that. It's nice to meet you, Megan, I'm Gibbs." He held out his large callused hand and after a moment's hesitation she accepted the handshake; her delicate hand dwarfed by the ex-marine's. "You know, my friend Abby would love to meet you, why don't we go down and see her together?"

Tony was half hoping that Gibbs would finally get a response out of her; it would be nice to hear what her voice sounded like. Not that he was interested or anything because he wasn't. He was disappointed, then, when she remained obstinately silent. However, there was something about Gibbs that inspired another one of those beautiful, pearly white grins of hers; which Gibbs seemed to construe as a 'yes' because he suddenly stood up and lifted Megan into his arms in one fluid motion.

"Coming, DiNozzo?" he asked, turning away from the elevator.

"Boss?"

"Well, you did plan on getting a paternity test, didn't you, DiNozzo?"

"Oh . . . right," said Tony, jogging to catch up.

As they passed by the bullpen McGee and Ziva looked up curiously. Ziva opened her mouth to say something but Tony held up his hands to stall her, 'later' he mouthed, following Gibbs to the back elevator. He hopped through the elevator doors just as they were sliding closed; taking up position by Gibbs' side. Although she still wasn't talking, Megan did appear to like Gibbs, at the very least she seemed fascinated by his rather _unique_ hairstyle; she kept running her hands over the side and back of his head (where the silver hair was shortest), causing the lead agent to smirk in amusement.

"Trying something new with your hair, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked causally.

"Huh?"

"Is the whole 'hobo look' some sorta fashion statement?" Gibbs deadpanned.

With a flush, Tony suddenly remembered what a state he must look with his faded jeans, wrinkled T-shirt and his hair standing to attention on one side. "Very funny, boss," he grumbled, attempting to flatten his hair again.

The corner of Gibbs' mouth quirked up on one side, forming that famous half-smile he wore from time to time. Normally, Tony would've been pleased with himself for causing that smile to appear on his boss' face but not when it was at his expense.

"Gimme a break, would'ja, I had a very weird wakeup call at 3 A.M. this morning, so forgive me for sleeping in and not looking my best."

"3 A.M.?" said Gibbs incredulously, leaning past Megan's blonde head to stare at his agent.

"I know! I couldn't believe it either," said Tony, a little angrily. "Kid should've been in bed asleep, not at my doorstep! I mean it, when we find her M-O-M I'm gonna have a serious talk with her."

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment, one silver eyebrow raised.

"What?" Tony demanded, unnerved by the way his leader was staring at him and yet unable to explain just why it made him uncomfortable.

Gibbs shrugged and looked away. Tony frowned and stared straight ahead, trying to flatten his hair for the third time.

"Hey, boss, you were just kidding, right?" said Tony, plastering a fake grin onto his face. "I mean, about Megan having my eyes, you were just messing with me, weren't you?"

Gibbs turned his light blue eyes onto him; his expression unreadable. Tony felt the elevator shudder beneath his feet. _Ding!_ And then Gibbs was gone, leaving Tony with a rising sense of dread twisting in his gut. He hurried to catch up with the former marine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Tony flinched when he stepped into Abby's lab; he threw up his hands to protect his defenseless eardrums from being shattered by the Goth's music that was blasting out at full volume. Gibbs was already making a beeline for her stereo.

"God!" he cried irritably, as he jabbed the STOP button on the stereo.

"HEY!" yelled Abby's indignant voice. She was sitting at her desk in the den, her feet propped up and a magazine in her hands. "Don't mess with my music!"

"You call that noise _music?_" said Gibbs incredulously.

"Awwwww! Who's your friend, Gibbs?" she asked, bouncing to her feet.

"This is Megan, Abs, and she needs your help solving a little problem."

"Aw! Megan, that's a really cute –" Abby broke off suddenly, as Megan turned to face her. Her mouth fell open and she stared at Megan with wide eyes. Then she frowned, marched past Gibbs and came to a stop in front of Tony. She glared at him for a few seconds before punching him hard in the arm. "How could you not tell me you have a daughter?"

Tony felt his jaw drop in shock. _What is she a mind reader now? _He snapped his mouth closed as anger flared in his chest. "First off, OW!" he said, rubbing his arm. "Second, I only found out about this a few hours ago! And third, we don't even know if she is my daughter, which is why we came to you. I need you to do a paternity test."

"Are you crazy? I don't need a paternity test to tell me the obvious! Just look at her, Tony, she's the spitting image of you!"

"What? No she's not!"

"I'm serious, Tony!" cried Abby insistently, grabbing his chin and twisting his head so he was forced to focus on Megan's face. "Look at her, she has your eyes, and your mouth – even her face is the same shape as yours. She's like your Mini-me, only blonde and much cuter."

"Hey!"

"Can't you see it, Tony?" she asked impatiently.

"No I can't!" he said stubbornly, pulling himself free. "Can you please just do that paternity test now?"

She narrowed her eyes at him irritably. "Fine!"

"Oh, and while you're at it, could you pull prints from this?" he asked, retrieving the sealed sandwich bag with the note inside from his pack.

Still glaring at him, she snatched the bag out of his hand and read through the note. He could see her lips forming the words '_she's your problem now'_ and watched her green eyes well up with tears.

"Oh! This is horrible! How could anyone abandon such a sweet little girl?" She spun on her heel and clomped towards Gibbs and Megan, her arms spread wide with the intention of hugging them both. Megan recoiled and buried her face against Gibbs' shoulder. Abby froze. "That's weird, kids normally love me."

Tony couldn't understand it either, first Gibbs couldn't get her to talk and now Abby had unwittingly scared her. He'd never heard of anything like this happening before. Like Abby said, kids usually adored her. Gibbs was now looking at Megan as if she were a puzzle he had to solve.

"Back up a bit, Abs," he said gently.

Her shoulders slumping slightly, Abby did as she was told. The ex-marine set Megan on the floor, squatting down beside her. He studied her for a moment before saying something in sign language. Tony frowned; that was an odd thing to do. To make matters more confusing, Tony saw Megan's face light up. Before his horrified eyes, he watched her raise her hands and sign something back. Abby gasped as a satisfied smile curved Gibbs' lips. Tony felt like someone had just sucker-punched him, the air froze in his lungs and the world seemed to flip on its axis. Suddenly all the pieces fell together. How could he have been so stupid? How had he not seen it sooner? No child Megan's age could maintain the kind of silence she had without a good reason and that reason was so blatantly obvious to him now that Tony could have kicked himself. Now Tony understood why she hadn't answered any of his questions; why she'd been startled when he'd tapped her on the shoulder; why she hadn't woken when his alarm had gone off; why she hadn't spoken to Gibbs; why she'd been frightened by Abby. Megan was deaf. And that realization hit him with the force of a tidal wave. The irrational part of his brain was saying _'No it can't be! This has to be a sick prank'_. Of course, that was a ridiculous thought; Gibbs would never _ever_ do such a thing. But Tony wanted it to be a prank, some kind of trick because he really, really didn't want to face the reality of the situation.

Abby turned and looked at him. He realized his mouth was hanging open and he quickly snapped it shut but there must have been something in his expression that caused her concern because in a tentative voice she said: "Tony, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, forcing a neutral expression onto his face. Gibbs glanced over at him too; his smile gone. "How-how old is she?"

Gibbs turned back to Megan and relayed the question in sign language. Megan, who looked utterly overjoyed to have someone to 'talk' to at last, rapidly signed back.

"Almost four," said Gibbs.

_Almost four,_ thought Tony, feeling oddly dazed by the information. "When's her birthday?" he heard himself ask.

"Seventh of August," Gibbs translated as Megan signed the answer.

"That's next week!" exclaimed Abby, sounding excited by the prospect.

Tony, on the other hand, was rapidly doing the maths. _Turning four next week, so she was born in 2006, which means she was conceived sometime in November 2005._ He felt his insides turn to ice; he'd been afraid of that. It meant that Megan had been conceived in the months following Kate's death; when Tony had been an utter mess. He'd hidden it of course; no-one at work had suspected he was struggling to cope. He had put on a brave face and fooled everyone into thinking he was 'fine'. When in truth he was barely keeping it together. For months he was plagued with nightmares. Night after night he would relive that day on the rooftop before eventually waking in a cold sweat, trying to wipe the imaginary blood from his face. He couldn't talk to Abby about it because she needed him to be strong; he was dealing with a dead partner, she was dealing with the loss of a friend. So Tony dealt with his grief the only way he knew how, burying himself in work and seeking solace in booze and women when he was off the clock. It wasn't a permanent fix but it helped chase away most of his nightmares. Unfortunately, this meant there were a lot of drunken nights where Tony couldn't account for his actions. Plenty of opportunities where he could have impregnated some woman whose name he wouldn't remember in the morning.

"Breathe, Tony," said Gibbs quietly.

Tony, who hadn't even been aware he was holding his breath, returned to the present and inhaled a deep breath before slowly releasing it again. He must have zoned out for a moment because Gibbs was suddenly standing in front of him. He was staring at him with those piercing blue eyes of his with something akin to concern.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine!"

"Don't lie to me, Tony."

Damn it all, he never could disobey a direct order, not from Gibbs at least. "Alright, alright . . . so I may be freaking out ever so slightly," he muttered reluctantly. "This is . . . a lot to take in."

"I know that, Tony, just try to relax. We'll figure this out," said Gibbs. "Abby," he turned to the Goth, who was kneeling on the floor, signing to Megan. "Paternity test."

"You got it, Gibbs," said Abby, rising to her feet energetically. "And don't worry, Tony, sign language is easy to learn. I'll teach you!"

"Abby," snapped Gibbs, warningly.

"Right, paternity test. I'll just get some cheek swabs."

As Abby went to fetch the swabs, Tony collapsed into a swivel chair and stared at his reflection in one of the blank computer screens. He was trying his hardest to relax but it was difficult. The thought that he might be a father was scary enough a few hours ago, but now it was downright terrifying. Caring for a child was one thing, but caring for a deaf child . . . well, that was a huge responsibility. Tony wasn't the kind of guy equipped for dealing with such a responsibility. If this paternity test came back positive and proved that he was indeed Megan's father Tony wasn't sure what he'd do.

"Here you go, Tony."

He jumped as Abby's voice suddenly jarred him from his thoughts. Flushing slightly, he accepted the cheek swab from the forensic scientist. He stared at it for several long minutes with such intensity you'd almost think he was staring at the barrow of a gun.

"You need a hand with that, Tony?" asked Gibbs, a knowing smirk playing about his lips.

"Uh . . . no, boss," said Tony, swabbing the inside of his cheek.

"How long until you get the results, Abs?" asked Gibbs, lifting Megan into his arms once more.

"Should have them ready for you first thing tomorrow," said Abby brightly.

"Tomorrow?" cried Tony indignantly.

"Hey, you should consider yourself lucky, Tony, most people have to wait weeks before they get the results back," said Abby.

"What am I supposed to do until then?" he demanded, because he honestly had no idea.

"I don't suppose you made Megan breakfast this morning, did you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs interrupted before Abby could reply. Tony's guilty silence was all the answer he needed. He rolled his eyes.

"Hey! I was in a hurry!"

"Yeah, yeah," said Gibbs, turning to leave. "C'mon, DiNozzo, lets go."

"Where we going, boss?" asked Tony, jogging after Gibbs.

"To get this kid some breakfast, DiNozzo!" snapped Gibbs.

"How can you think of food at a time like this?"

"Look who's talking, Tony!" retorted Gibbs.

Abby rolled her eyes as she watched her two friends step onto the elevator. She took the seat Tony had just vacated and read through the sealed note again. "What kind of mother dumps their kid at somebody's door in the middle of the night?" she grumbled under her breath. "I promise you, Miss . . . Sicko-Mom," she continued a little louder, "if you've left enough breadcrumbs for me to follow, I will track you down just so I can have the pleasure of punching you in the nose! And if you think I'm bad just wait until Gibbs gets his hands on you!"

* * *

"Do you get the feeling we're missing something, McGee?"

"Missing something?" asked McGee distractedly.

"Gibbs says he's going for coffee then, minutes later, he returns with Tony – who's late and looks like some kind of homo –"

"Hobo," corrected McGee.

"Whatever!" Ziva hissed. "Anyway, Tony has with him a small child and, instead of explaining what's going on, he follows Gibbs to the back elevator to visit Abby. When they finally return, they all leave the building without giving a reason."

"What's your point?" asked McGee, who was only half listening.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd?" she demanded, glaring down at him as he typed away on his keyboard. He didn't respond. "McGee!"

"What?"

"Don't you think it's odd?" she repeated.

"What? That Tony was late? Or that he followed Gibbs like a lost puppy dog, like he always does?" asked McGee.

"That he had a _child_ with him!" cried Ziva, annoyed that McGee wasn't suitably curious about the situation.

"Maybe it was his niece," he suggested, vainly hoping she would drop the subject and let him get on with his work.

"The man is an only child, McGee!"

"Cousin then," he said, growing impatient.

"Don't all his relatives live in New York?"

"Maybe he's babysitting for a neighbor or something."

"McGee, in all the time you've known him, have you ever heard of Tony babysitting a child _ever?_" she asked incredulously.

McGee's fingers fell still on the keyboard. He glanced up at Ziva who was leaning over his desk. "You have a good point," he said. "Wait, how do you know they went to Abby's lab?"

"I called her."

"What'd she say?"

"Not much," said Ziva irritably. "She just assured me that Tony would explain everything when he got back!"

"Hmm, that's weird," said McGee. "I mean, the part about Abby not saying much is weird, usually she can't shut up."

"Something is going on," said Ziva. "I can feel it."

* * *

It was with a feeling of bemusement that Tony devoured his blueberry pancakes. Gibbs had brought them to a small diner, a few blocks from the Navy Yard. Tony had shared breakfast with his boss plenty of times before but never quite like this; with a little girl sitting across from them, imitating his every move. He was pretending like he hadn't noticed. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Gibbs, Megan's antics had not escaped his sharp eyes and the ex-marine wasn't even trying to hide his amused grin. The fact that Megan had also ordered blueberry pancakes wasn't helping matters either; Tony put it down as coincidence, Abby would probably call it 'inherited taste'. She had surprised both of them when she had read through the menu and picked out exactly what she wanted without any help from Gibbs. Tony was amazed a child her age was able to read so well; he'd been a six year old kindergartener when he learned to read. _The kid's smart, I'll give her that._ He took a sip of his orange juice and glanced up to see Megan mimic him with her cup of milk.

"Can you tell her to stop doing that?" he said, setting his glass down.

"Doing what?" asked Gibbs, feigning ignorance.

"Copying me!" he said, exasperated.

"They say imitation is the highest form of flattery."

"Yeah, well its also annoying," grumbled Tony.

"It means she likes you, Tony!" said Gibbs irritably.

"Can't she find another way to express that?" he whined.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and signed something to Megan, causing her to giggle. Tony tried to ignore how cute she looked with a milk moustache and the way her eyes sort of sparkled when she smiled. _C'mon, Tony, man up! There is no way in hell you are forming a bond with this kid! _

"That was about me, wasn't it?" he asked. Gibbs' half-smile confirmed it was. "Why don't you ask her something useful like where she lives or what her last name is? Something that will help us find her mom!"

"What's your rush, DiNozzo?"

Tony clenched his fists and resisted the stupid urge to punch the ex-marine in the face, who seemed to be enjoying his predicament far too much for Tony's liking. Part of him felt compelled to tell the truth, to explain to Gibbs the reason he was in such a rush to find this woman was so he could give Megan back and get on with his life and pretend like none of this had ever happened. Unfortunately, he figured telling Gibbs the truth would only earn him a head-slap, so he remained silent. Gibbs sighed and set his coffee cup down to sign something to Megan. Tony had watched Gibbs and Abby sign enough times to each other to recognize that Megan was spelling something when she replied, exactly what she was spelling he had no idea.

"Last name is Wilson," Gibbs translated. Even as he spoke he was signing again. Tony waited anxiously as Megan signed back. "Lives in Franklin with her grandmother."

"Grandmother?" Tony pounced on the word like it was a lifeline. "She has a grandmother? That's good, right?"

Unfortunately, Megan wasn't finished yet. "Grandmother's dead," explained Gibbs. "She says her mother came back to attend the funeral, then she packed up her things, they got on a bus and they went to your apartment."

"Wait, came back? You telling me her mom doesn't look after her?" asked Tony.

"No, her grandmother raised her since she was a baby," Gibbs translated. "She says," he paused, frowning slightly. "She says her mother doesn't want her because she's deaf."

Tony felt a surge of guilt and shame rise up in him like an angry wave. Here he was feeling sorry for himself when this little girl had just lost her grandmother and been abandoned by her mother for a second time. This information merely strengthened his resolve to track down this chick, only his motives weren't entirely selfish anymore. He glanced across the table at her and watched her stick a large forkful of pancake into her mouth. She stared back at him as she chewed. He could feel Gibbs' eyes boring into the side of his head.

"Does she have any other family?" he asked.

"Do you really think she would have been left at your doorstep if she did, DiNozzo?" said Gibbs.

"I guess not," muttered Tony.

"Have you thought about what you're gonna do, if those tests come back positive?" Gibbs asked casually, taking another sip of coffee.

"Not really," said Tony, pushing his plate away. "Kinda scared to."

"Becoming a father is a scary thing, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, smiling. He set his empty coffee cup on the table. "I remember how scared I was when Shannon told me she was pregnant."

Tony could hardly believe his ears; Gibbs rarely discussed his daughter and first wife. He glanced over at his boss and was surprised to see the somewhat wistful expression on Gibbs' face. "Really?" he said.

"Yeah, that all changed the first time I held Kelly in my arms," murmured Gibbs. He cleared his throat and reached into his jacket for his wallet. "We should be heading back, DiNozzo," he said gruffly. He stood up, set some money on the table and held his hand out to Megan. Wiping her mouth, she hopped off her chair and clasped his callused fingers in her tiny hand.

"On your six, boss," said Tony, rising to follow them.

* * *

"Here you go, Ziva," said McGee, setting her Berry Mango Madness fruit smoothie on her desk. He figured since Gibbs was out and the fact they weren't currently on a case, meant it was safe for him to go on a coffee run, or in this case coffee/smoothie run.

"Thank you, McGee," said Ziva, giving him a bright smile.

"Gibbs and Tony back yet?" he asked, making his way back to his desk.

"No, not yet," said Ziva.

"I guess they weren't going for coffee then," he said.

"I guess not," she muttered.

"Look I'm sure they'll be back soon and we'll get some answers," he assured her.

_Ding!_ Ziva sprung out of her chair to see Gibbs and Tony step out of the elevator. "Speak of the demon," she said gleefully.

"Devil," said McGee.

"What?"

"Uh, the phrase is: speak of the devil," he explained.

"What's the difference?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, actually –" Ziva glared at him, obviously not interested. "Never mind."

Gibbs, Tony and the little girl casually made their way into the bullpen. Tony tossed his gear down, dropped into his chair and switched on his computer. Gibbs sat at his own desk and pulled the girl onto his lap. Ziva glanced between them expectantly.

"Well?" she said, after several minutes had gone past without a word spoken from either of them.

"Well what, David?" Gibbs asked.

"Isn't anyone going to explain what's going on? Like who your friend is?" she demanded.

"Why don't you ask DiNozzo?" he said.

"Tony?" she snapped, glaring across the bullpen at him.

"Well, Ziva this is Megan Wilson, she's almost four, I found her at my doorstep early this morning – which is why I was late, by the way – and according to the note she had with her, there is a very good chance that I'm her . . . father," explained Tony bluntly.

"_SSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPSSSTTTT!_" said McGee, as he sprayed his computer screen and keyboard with coffee. "What?" he spluttered.

"You got a little something on your chin there, McSpittle," said Tony, tapping his own chin with a pen.

"Are you telling me somebody was actually stupid enough to –?"

"You really feel like finishing that sentence, McGee?" Gibbs interrupted sharply, his expression suddenly fierce.

"Er . . ." said McGee.

"No, let him finish, boss," said Tony angrily. "Go on, Probie, stupid enough to do what? Sleep with me? Leave a kid in my care? Or maybe you think a woman must be stupid to have one with me? Well c'mon, Probie, which is it?"

"DiNozzo!" said Gibbs, warningly.

"Tony, I didn't mean it like –"

"The hell you didn't!" snapped Tony. "What about you, Ziva? You have an opinion you'd like to share?"

Ziva was staring at him open-mouthed. She looked stunned and a little pale, though she seemed to come to her senses under Tony's furious glare. She smoothed her features into a neutral expression. "Only," she said hesitantly, "that I am not entirely surprised." McGee, however, didn't believe her; he'd never seen anyone look more surprised than she had a few minutes ago.

"Oh! Of course!" said Tony with a sarcastic smile. "'Cause everyone knows that it was inevitable that Anthony DiNozzo would knock up a woman who, four years later, would abandon her child because she…" he broke off and took a deep breath. "You know what, screw this!" He surged to his feet. "I'm gonna check on Abby; see if she's got anything off that note!" With that he stormed off.

Gibbs sighed. "Nice going you two," he said.

"I'm sorry, Gibbs, but what did he expect?" Ziva snapped.

"Oh, I don't know, Ziva, maybe a little support from his colleagues?" said Gibbs angrily.

"You can't honestly ask us to be happy about the fact that Tony, as he aptly put it, knocked up some bimbo who has now decided to abandon her own daughter!" said Ziva incredulously.

"_Ziva!_" hissed McGee, nodding pointedly towards Megan.

"Aw, that's alright, McGee," said Gibbs dryly. "Ziva can badmouth Megan's mom till she's blue in the face, Megan won't take any notice."

"Boss?" asked McGee, confused.

"What DiNozzo forgot to tell you is the reason Megan was abandoned is because her mother couldn't cope with a deaf child," explained Gibbs. He rose to his feet, took Megan by the hand and took off towards the back elevator, leaving McGee and Ziva staring after him in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Ducky glanced up from his paperwork as he heard the doors to Autopsy open and saw Gibbs poke his head inside and glance about the room. "Ah! Good morning –" he started to say but the lead agent had already withdrawn his head. "Jethro?" He stood up with the intention of following him when Gibbs returned, this time accompanied by a small girl. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Hey, Duck," said Gibbs, leading the little girl into the lab by the hand.

"Hello, Jethro," he said, crossing the space separating them. "You mind introducing me to your young friend?"

"This is Megan, she –"

"Megan! What a lovely name, you know I have a second cousin named Megan, though she lives in Scotland. How do you do, Megan?" He held out his hand to shake. "My name is Dr. Mallard, but you may call me Ducky."

Megan glanced up at Gibbs before shaking the doctor's hand. He chuckled indulgently.

"Shy, is she?" he asked, smiling.

Gibbs' expression was resigned when he said: "She can't hear you, Duck."

"Oh," said Ducky. "Oh dear." He frowned, as if trying to recall something. "Lets see if I remember what Abigail taught me," he said, making a saluting gesture with his right hand; which in sign language meant 'hello'.

'_My name is D-U-C-K-Y,'_ he signed.

Megan's face immediately brightened and she rapidly began signing back. "I'm sorry, my dear, I'm afraid that's all I know," he said awkwardly, looking helplessly to Gibbs. The ex-marine smirked before signing something to Megan. "Jethro, to what do I owe the pleasure of this acquaintance? Did we pick up a case?"

"Nope," said Gibbs.

"Then who …?" he trailed off, studying Megan's face. "You know, she reminds me of someone . . . I can't quite put my finger on it."

"It wouldn't be DiNozzo she reminds you of, would it?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes! She does rather closely resemble Anthony, she has the same …" he broke off, as realization hit him. "Ah," he said. "Then I take it she's –?"

"Abby still has to confirm it, but yeah, most likely," explained Gibbs.

"How did this all come about?" asked Ducky.

"She was abandoned at Tony's apartment last night."

"How dreadful?" he said, appalled. "Where is Tony?"

"With Abby, cooling off," said Gibbs.

"How's he coping?"

"He's not," said Gibbs, rubbing his neck. "He's in denial. He's scared. Angry with the mother for just leaving her the way she did."

"Do we know the woman's name?" asked Ducky, hopefully.

"I tried asking but she won't tell me, says she can't remember," explained Gibbs, tousling Megan's hair. "Won't tell me her address either."

"I suppose considering she's already been abandoned once –"

"Twice," Gibbs interrupted. "Grandmother raised her."

"I take it that's no longer an option then? Well, it's clear to me what the problem is, Jethro, she's afraid that if she tells you her mother's name or her address you'll send her away," explained Ducky sagely. "How old is she?"

"Turning four next week," said Gibbs.

Ducky was quiet for a moment as he thought over this information. "Jethro, you do realize, of course, that that means Megan was conceived in the months following Caitlin's death?"

"Yeah, Duck, I worked that much out for myself."

"Hmm," said Ducky, returning to his desk. "I did warn you something like this might happen," he said, taking his seat.

"Yeah, I remember," Gibbs sighed. He lifted Megan onto one of the autopsy tables and took a seat beside her.

"You know if you had only spoken to the boy like I asked you to –"

"What was I supposed to say, Ducky?" demanded Gibbs angrily.

"I don't know, Gibbs, but Anthony looks up to you like a father and you were with him on that rooftop. You shared a traumatic experience together, if Tony was going to confide in anybody _you_ were the most likely candidate."

"Yeah," said Gibbs, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I know, Duck. I saw he was struggling, I didn't intervene like you told me to and now …" he trailed off as his gaze slid to Megan.

"No point on dwelling on the past now, I suppose, old boy," said Ducky, kindly. "The question is what are we going to do about it?"

"That's up to Tony, Ducky."

* * *

Tony heaved a huge sigh and bumped his head lightly off the refrigerator door he was leaning against. He was sprawled out on the floor of Abby's lab, staring at the legs of Abby's computer desk. The forensic scientist had managed to pull prints from the note he'd given her, unluckily, there hadn't been any hits on AFIS. _On the bright side,_ he thought mildly, _I didn't hook up with a criminal. Downside is we have no way of finding this woman._ He groaned and smacked his head against the glass again.

"C'mon, Tony," said Abby cheerfully. "There's no need to mope."

"I'm not moping," he grumbled.

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to!" She pushed her chair back from her computer and glanced over at him. She had hoped a bit of banter would cheer him up but judging by his expression it wasn't working. "That does it!" She bounced to her feet and clomped over to him.

"What?" asked Tony, peering up at her.

"C'mon," she said, holding out her hand to him. "It's time I taught you how to introduce yourself to Megan."

"Abby –!" he protested.

"No! No excuses," she cut across him. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet. "It's only polite to introduce yourself properly, in a way she can understand."

"Fine," he sighed.

"Now this," she said, making a saluting gesture. "Is how you say hello."

"You salute each other to say hello?" asked Tony wryly, quirking an eyebrow.

"Pay attention!" she snapped.

"Sorry," said Tony.

"Now the important thing to remember is how to spell your name," she explained. "This is T." She made a fist in the air with her index finger overlapping her thumb. Tony copied the action. "This is O." She made a circle between her thumb and index finger. "N." She made another fist, this time both her middle and index fingers overlapped her thumb. "Y." She kept her hand in a fist, this time sticking her thumb and pinkie finger in the air, creating a Y shape.

'_T-O-N-Y,_' signed Tony. "Hmm, that's not so hard."

"There's a lot more to sign language than just that, Tony," said Abby.

"Okay, show me how to put all this together," he said.

"Getting into it, huh?" asked Abby, smugly.

"Yeah, well . . . it would be nice to know what you and Gibbs talk about when you're having one of your silent discussions," said Tony, shrugging.

"I'm sure Megan will really appreciate you going to the trouble to learn this, Tony," she told him happily.

"Abs, your parents . . . were they born deaf?" Tony asked hesitantly.

"My mom was, my dad went deaf when he was two from meningitis," she explained.

"And are they …? Do they mind not being able to hear?" he asked.

"Of course not. They've never known anything different. Just because a person can't hear doesn't mean they can't lead a perfectly happy life."

"Yeah, but it's gotta be hard?"

"Sure, it can be hard but when you're deaf you don't let your disadvantage get in the way of pursuing what you want to do with your life."

Tony was quiet for several minutes as he contemplated this.

"Tony, I know it can be scary for hearing parents to find out their child is deaf but except for the language you use to communicate with them there's really no difference from any other child," said Abby, with a rare display of wisdom.

Tony wasn't stupid, he knew exactly why she had added that last part and although what she had said had taken the edge off his fear, it couldn't reassure him completely. He just couldn't envision himself as a father. _What was that saying? 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree'._ Anthony DiNozzo senior didn't have a paternal bone in his body, so what did that say about Tony? He couldn't do that to Megan, she deserved so much more than he could give , for Abby's sake he allowed a slow smile to spread over his face. "Thanks, Abs," he said.

* * *

When Tony returned to the squad-room he found Megan seated behind his desk. Someone, most likely Gibbs, had given her some paper and a pencil to draw with. Nervously, he glanced back at Abby who had insisted on following him here. She grinned and gave him the thumbs up. He took a deep breath, stepped around the desk, tapped Megan lightly on the shoulder to get her attention and crouched down to her eye level. Abby moved so she was standing directly behind his right shoulder. Megan's hazel eyes were alight with curiosity.

'_Hello, M-E-G-A-N,'_ he signed awkwardly. _'My name is T-O-N-Y.'_

The smile she gave him was breathtaking; it stretched across her face showing off all of her tiny white teeth and made her eyes sparkle with joy. Grudgingly, Tony had to admit the smile bore an uncanny resemblance to his own smile. She touched her chin with the tips of her fingers and moved her open palm in a gesture similar to blowing a kiss.

"That means 'thank you', Tony," explained Abby.

"I'm sorry I was such an idiot," he said quietly, reluctant for the others to overhear. Over his shoulder Abby translated for him. "I didn't realize . . . I didn't know you couldn't hear me, not until Gibbs told me."

"'It's not your fault, I'm used to it'," said Abby, speaking for Megan as she signed to Tony.

"Still, pretty stupid for a guy who's a federal investigator, huh?"

"'I don't think you're stupid."

Tony smiled. _'Thank you,'_ he signed.

"'I made this for you'." As Abby spoke Megan picked up the drawing she'd been working on and handed it to Tony.

Impressed, he raised his eyebrows as he examined the picture. For something which had been drawn by someone who was barely four years old, it was surprisingly detailed. The two pencil-drawn people were clearly meant to be Megan and himself; and unlike the scribbles of most young children they actually looked like people. They had fairly proportioned bodies. They each had eyes, hair, a mouth, a nose, and ears and both were dressed in clothes. However, despite her quite remarkable artistic skills, Megan hadn't quite mastered how to draw fingers just yet as the pencil versions of themselves had 'mitten' hands. In the drawing Tony and Megan were holding hands and smiling.

"This is good!" he said heartily. "Where'd you learn to draw like this?"

"'My Grandma'," translated Abby. "'She was an art teacher'."

Tony instantly sobered at the mention of Megan's grandmother. If there was one thing he understood it was what she was going through at the moment. "You must really miss her," he said softly. He wasn't entirely surprised when the smile slid off her face and she didn't sign anything back. He felt like Gibb-slapping himself; he hadn't meant to upset her. "I know what you're going through; I lost my mom when I was eight."

"Tony, are you sure –" Abby began hesitantly. She knew what a painful subject Tony's mother was.

"Yeah," he cut across her. "It's okay, Abs."

He waited as Megan's eyes moved from his face to Abby and back again. "I know it doesn't seem like it now but you'll be okay, I promise."

Megan was still for sometime after Abby had finished signing. She sat with her head bowed solemnly, a curtain of blonde hair hiding her face. Her arms were braced against the arms of the chair and her feet dangled above the floor. Part of Tony felt like reaching out and comforting her, but the other part of him – the part that refused to bond with this little girl – stopped him from doing so. Eventually, she looked up at him. She chewed her lip, seeming to come to some sort of decision. Then she signed something.

"What'd she say?" he asked, when Abby failed to translate straight away.

"She . . . she wants to know if . . . if you're her dad, Tony," explained Abby.

He opened his mouth to respond and faltered. He glanced to his right and saw Ziva avert her eyes. He turned to look at Gibbs and found the ex-marine watching him. Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, as if to say: _'well go on, DiNozzo, say something. She's waiting.'_ But just what was he supposed to say exactly? They didn't really know the answer to that question yet. And how could he explain that the thought of being her father terrified him?

"That's what we're gonna figure out," he said simply.

* * *

The rest of the day passed slowly. Things were considerably strained in the bullpen; Tony was still smarting over what McGee and Ziva had said and chose to ignore their attempts to initiate conversation. Eventually the pair of them gave up and an uneasy silence fell over the team. To Tony's relief, Abby offered to babysit Megan in the lab. However, his relief quickly turned to guilt. It felt too much like he was brushing her off, much as her mother had done. Not for the first time that day he felt torn. On the one hand he wanted Megan close by so he keep an eye on her(an instinct he couldn't quite explain to himself), on the other hand he wanted her as far away as possible so he could ignore the crucial decision that was looming ahead for a little longer. The conflicting emotions raging inside him soon caused him to get a throbbing migraine. As morbid as it might sound, he desperately began to hope a dead marine might turn up somewhere so he could focus his attention on a case, instead of on his personal life, which was spiraling out of his control. Unfortunately, no calls came in and they were stuck doing paperwork all day.

Lunch came and went with Tony turning down both McGee and Abby's offers to go out. McGee nodded awkwardly when Tony insisted he had paperwork to finish. He hovered at Tony's desk a moment longer, looking very much like he wanted to say something else but then, with shoulders slumped, he turned and joined Ziva in the elevator. Abby was far more upbeat about the rejection and cheerfully led Megan away with promises of ice-cream. When Megan reached the elevator she turned and waved; Tony couldn't help but smile and wave back. With a sigh of relief at finding himself alone in the bullpen, he set back to work. He didn't look up from his computer again until a cheese and ham burrito landed in his lap and Gibbs barked:

"Eat something, DiNozzo."

A grateful smile passed over Tony's face. "Yes, boss," he said, peeling the foil off his burrito.

As everyone returned from lunch, that awkward silence fell over the bullpen once more. The hours dragged by and Tony was soon longing to go home; which was unusual for him, since he usually dreaded going home to his empty apartment where he only had DVDs for company. He just wanted some time alone with his thoughts, away from the scrutiny of his team. More than once he caught Ziva, McGee – and on one occasion Gibbs – watching him. It was starting to get on his nerves. Yet going home posed its own problems as well. Being alone with a kid he couldn't communicate with was not something he looked forward to. It was going on six when the light tread of measured footfalls had Tony glancing up to see Gibbs standing at his desk.

"Boss?" he said, warily.

"Head home, DiNozzo, there's no need for you to stick around any longer," said Gibbs.

Tony hid a grin as he felt a warm surge of gratitude towards his boss. Still, for appearances sake, he felt obligated to resist the offer before he let himself give in.

"I'm fine, boss, _really._ I've just got a few more things I ne–"

"_Tony!_ It's not just you I'm thinking about," explained Gibbs, leaning his hands on the desk and speaking quietly so the others wouldn't hear. "Or do you expect Megan to hang around here all night? Go home," he repeated. "That's an order."

"Yes, boss," he said, feigning meekness.

"Go on," said Gibbs, making a shooing gesture with his hands.

A small smile curled Tony's lips as he packed up his gear. As he stepped around his desk, his pack slung over one shoulder, Gibbs grabbed him by the arm and stopped him.

"I'll drop by your place later and see how you're doing," he murmured.

Tony couldn't decide whether he should be insulted or touched by Gibb's concern. "Boss, you don't need to go to any trouble, I'll be fine," Tony assured him. Gibbs took a step closer, his expression uncompromising. "Right . . . I'll save yah some pizza, boss." The ex-marine flashed him a smug grin before releasing his arm and turning away.

He found Abby having an animated – and entirely silent – conversation with Megan when he stepped into the lab. Neither of them had noticed his presence yet and Tony took the opportunity to observe their little world to which he was excluded. If there was one thing Tony could be accused of it was being overly curious, so the fact he had no idea what the pair were saying irked him immensely. He hated being excluded from anything concerning the people closest to him; it was precisely why he was so nosey; why he eavesdropped on other people's conversations; why he rifled through his teammates' desks; and why he generally stuck his nose into his friends' personal lives. Like most things, it was probably down to his upbringing. DiNozzo senior had never been one for sharing information, so growing up Tony had rarely known where his father was, or who he was meeting with, or even when he would be back from one of his 'business trips'.

He cleared his throat. "Abby."

"Agh!" she yelled, jumping in surprise. She spun around in her desk chair, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Oh! Hi, Tony! You should have come to lunch with us, we had so much fun! Megan is such a cool little kid! Are you going somewhere?"

She was firing off sentences at a rapid rate and Tony suspected she was either on a caffeine or sugar high. "Yeah, Abs, home," he explained.

"Awwwww! Already?" she whined.

"Yeah, Gibbs' orders," he said, smiling apologetically.

"Oh . . . well, okay then," she said sadly, sagging like a grumpy toddler. She signed to Megan; explaining the situation.

With Abby's help, Megan hopped off the desk. She gave Tony a broad smile as she took his hand. Tony was halfway to the door when Abby suddenly blocked his path, looking very much like she'd just been struck by a brilliant idea.

"Hey! Why don't I come with you?" she suggested eagerly. "We could have a sleep over and I could help you guys communicate and then you could really get to know each other! It'll be fun!"

"As tempting as that offer is, Abby, there's really no need to trouble yourself, we'll be fine, _really!_" he said. The last thing he needed tonight was a hyper-active forensic scientist bouncing about his apartment. "Besides," he added bracingly, when he saw her shoulders droop. "Gibbs already beat you to it; he said he'd stop by my place later to check on me."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" she exclaimed. "Well, I guess you'll be in good hands then. I'll see you guys tomorrow then," she said, throwing her arms around first Tony and then Megan.

"Bye, Abs," he said, smiling indulgently. With a feeling of relief Tony headed for the elevator.

* * *

Tony felt weird during the drive home. The last time he'd been in a car with Megan he had spent most of the journey asking questions, now he knew that was pointless and he felt too guilty to switch the radio on, which even he knew was stupid, it wasn't as if Megan would resent his ability to listen to music. Tony really hated awkward silences, usually he rambled on about some movie, or his college days, or his career as a cop, but right now that wasn't an option. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced over at Megan for what was probably the hundredth time. Maybe he was paranoid because he had allowed her to sit in the front seat again. He knew he was stupid to let her sit up front, it was dangerous for a small child, but he wanted her within arm's reach where he could keep an eye on her – an instinct he didn't dare examine too closely just yet. Besides, he was a careful driver and he was keeping under the limit. Megan didn't seem to notice his attention, in truth she looked rather tired, not really surprising since she had spent the afternoon with Abby whose hyper-active personality could wear out anyone after a first meeting. She wasn't the only one who was tired, Tony was also feeling the strain of a long and intense day begin to take its toll. He focused his attention back on the road, forcing his gaze to remain there until he parked the car outside his apartment block.

They were forced to take the stairs since the elevator in Tony's apartment was broken, _again._ As Tony carried both Megan and his pack up three flights of stairs, he calculated that it had at least been two months since the elevator in his crappy apartment had worked. He'd long since given up any hope that nagging his landlord about it would do any good; Mr. Alcott was a tight-fisted bastard who wasn't afraid to cut corners when it came to repairs. Tony had lived here since he had transferred from Baltimore PD, choosing this over better apartments simply because it had been the most affordable option and was close to the office. The place was old, built in the early 1930s, and had seen better days; the boiler was forever on the fritz; the old lead pipes froze or burst every winter; the elevator was obsolete 98% of the time; and the place had been fumigated more times than Tony could count. Despite all the problems, Tony had never seen any major reason why he should move out. Its wasn't as if he spent that much time there, and besides he liked the old fashioned charm of the place, the fact that most of his neighbors were pensioners, and that it was set in a quiet – if slightly rundown – neighborhood. But as he struggled to unlock his door while he balanced Megan in his arms, he realized that while his crumby apartment was fine for a bachelor like him to live, it really wasn't a place he could imagine raising a child in.

_Why the hell am I thinking that?_ He asked himself silently. He nudged the door open with his foot, frowning at his wayward thoughts. He flicked the lights on with his elbow and dumped his pack on the floor before kicking the door closed. He carried Megan to the sofa and set her down on it. She leaned back against the sofa cushions and stared up at him. _'So, now what do we do?'_ her expression seemed to ask. Tony slipped his hands into his pockets and chewed the inside of his cheek. He honestly had no clue. He'd been so desperate to get home that he really hadn't thought much about what he would actually do once he got there – besides taking a long hot shower and ordering some pizza, that is. He had no idea how to handle the situation. Suddenly, Tony regretted turning down Abby's offer to tag along with them. He glanced about the room in search of inspiration.

"I got it!" he cried aloud, breaking the tense silence that had settled on the room like an itchy, wool blanket.

He strode across the room and plucked a cardboard box from the top of a bookshelf, which was lined with hundreds of DVDs rather than books. He blew the dust off it and promptly sneezed as the dust flew up his nose. It was a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle of the statue of Liberty which his eighty-five-year-old neighbor, Mrs. Hickson – a sweet and slightly batty old lady – had given him for Christmas about two years before. Unsurprisingly, he'd not had much use for it – what with him having a life and all – so it had sat there on his shelf collecting dust. Until now, that is. Kids liked puzzles, right? Tony was pretty sure they liked them. He grabbed a pen and notepad and returned to Megan, perching on the edge of the coffee table so he could scribble down a note.

_'I'm going for a shower.'_ It read. _'Wont be long. You play with this while I'm gone.'_

He took her thumbs-up gesture to mean she had managed to accurately decipher his messy handwriting. He gave her a quick smile, handed her the box, tousled her hair and made his way to the bathroom. His shower wasn't nearly relaxing as he hoped it would be. Tony was worried about what could happen if he left Megan alone too long. He spent the entire time straining to hear anything out of the ordinary over the noise of rushing water. Normally, he would stay under the spray of hot water until all the tension and stress of the day drained out of his body, unfortunately, it didn't look as if de-stressing was on the agenda for tonight. He washed quickly, switched off the water, stumbled from the shower, towel-dried himself haphazardly, pulled on the clothes he'd grabbed from his dresser (a pair of sweatpants and an old Ohio state University T-shirt), and hastily made his way back to the living room where he stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open.

Megan was lying flat on the floor on her stomach, propped up by her elbows, with the almost complete jigsaw puzzle stretched out before her. Her little brow was knitted together in an adorable expression of intense concentration. Piece by piece, she slotted the puzzle together forming more and more of the picture. She didn't fiddle with the puzzle pieces or take any time to figure out where they might fit, she just seemed to instinctively know where each bit went. More amazingly, she wasn't even looking at the picture on the cover for guidance, the box lay abandoned a few feet away on the coffee table. Tony had never seen anything like it.

"I was gone like ten minutes!" he said incredulously. "H-how . . .?" He wasn't sure if she was aware of his presence or not or if she was just too preoccupied to look at him. He stood there watching her as she added the finishing touches to the jigsaw. After another ten minutes or so had passed the puzzle was complete. Megan sat back on her haunches to observe her work. She stared at the jigsaw for several moments, as if to be sure every piece was in place, before finally looking up at Tony – who had unconsciously moved closer to watch her. Something akin to pride was stirring inside the Italian. He crouched down beside her and looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. "What are you, some kind of mini genius?" he asked, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You're one smart little kid; I bet McGeek couldn't do that. What other tricks you got up your sleeve?" Megan stared back at him with those expressive hazel eyes of hers and tilted her head to one side; clearly wondering what he was saying. _Don't do this, Tony,_ he scolded himself. _Don't get attached!_ He broke eye contact and rose to his feet. "Well, I don't know about you but I'm starved, think its 'bout time I ordered that pizza!" he announced, heading for the phone. He didn't dare turn back to see what expression Megan was wearing now.

After ordering his favorite pizza, Tony retreated to the couch and switched on the TV. He flicked through the channels absently while Megan amused herself by sliding along the floorboards. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door went twenty minutes later. It wasn't until he had the pizza box open on the table that he realized Megan wasn't in the room. He froze as he was gripped by irrational panic.

"Meg–!" he started to yell, then broke off, realizing how pointless shouting was.

As calmly as he could manage, he went in search of her. To his relief he didn't have to go far; he found her in his bedroom playing with the stuffed bunny rabbit she'd had with her last night. He felt oddly guilty that she had left her only toy behind because he'd been in such a rush this morning. "Don't do that," he grumbled, when she looked up at him. "Scared the hell outta me, c'mon, time to eat." He motioned her to follow him. She clutched the rabbit to her chest and scurried after him.

Tony tried to concentrate on the TV but his eyes kept straying to Megan who was sat by his feet pretending to share her pizza slice with her toy. All in all she seemed to be coping well with the circumstances they'd found themselves in, certainly better than he was at least. Looking at her now it was hard to tell she'd been through so much. She was barely four years old and already she'd lost her grandmother, been uprooted from her home, abandoned yet again by her mother, and dumped on the doorstep of a perfect stranger. She'd been through all that and yet there she sat ever so calmly playing with her toy like she didn't have a care in the world. Tony envied her composure; he wished he could deal with all this with such a cool head. Despite how calm and carefree she appeared on the surface, Tony knew how much she must be hurting. He could certainly relate to what she must be feeling right about now, he'd lost his mother when he was only eight and his father had always made him feel like an unwanted burden. Weird how they were both so good at hiding their true emotions. Without thinking, he reached forward and combed his fingers through her hair; marveling at how soft it was. Megan glanced up at him and Tony felt a sudden surge of guilt. All day he'd been pulling away, keeping himself emotionally distant, just like his father had always done with him. As a boy he'd sworn to himself never to turn into his father and yet overnight he had let it happen.

_This is different,_ he thought stubbornly. _Dad kept you at arms length 'cause he couldn't face Mom's death. You're doing this to protect Megan. You can't take care of a child. You can't give her the family she needs. She's better off without you, Tony, you know she is. And if you let yourself get attached it's only gonna be harder to let her go._ Tony pulled his hand away. After Jeanne, he knew he couldn't go through something like that again; losing her had almost destroyed him. He leaned forward on his knees and rubbed a hand over his mouth. With any luck, tomorrow the paternity test results would come back negative and the decision about Megan's future would be taken out of his incapable hands. He sighed. _Yeah, like I'm that lucky._

He reached past Megan and snagged another slice of pizza, stuffing it into his mouth while he tried to clear his mind of his troubles. Megan startled him when she used his pants' leg to pull herself to her feet. His eyes followed her as she wandered over to one of his DVD shelves. After several minutes of pursuing the titles she selected a DVD and returned to the couch, holding it up for Tony's inspection. Tony arched an eyebrow; surprised she'd be interested in movies when she couldn't … his thoughts tailed away guiltily. He had no right to make any assumptions on what would or would not interest a deaf child.

"You wanna watch it?" he asked. She surprised him again when she nodded. He could only assume his expression had given away his question. "Okay," he said, nodding his own head. "We can watch it, let me just …" he broke off. Megan was already ahead of him; she had moved to the TV and switched on the DVD player. "Guess we have something else in common," he commented lightly.

He was surprised for a third time when Megan selected subtitles from the DVD's main menu. Now he understood how and why a child her age was so good at reading. She perched on the edge of the coffee table, next to the pizza box, and bounced the rabbit on her lap while the opening credits rolled. Tony sighed and settled back against the sofa cushions. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew he was waking with a start as there was something like a knock at the door.

"DiNozzo!" yelled an all too familiar voice.

Tony rolled his eyes and smirked. "Coming, boss," he called back, getting to his feet.

When he opened the door he found Gibbs standing there, a six-pack of beer in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. He realized the odd knock he'd heard had in fact been the lead agent giving the door a kick. Gibbs greeted him with a half-smile and a nod as he stepped into the apartment.

"What's in the bag, boss?" he asked curiously.

"Ice-cream," Gibbs answered curtly.

"Ice-cream?" said Tony, incredulously.

"Well yeah, DiNozzo, unless you think Megan would like some beer?" Gibbs deadpanned.

"Well, if she's anything like me than she prob–" he broke off at the look Gibbs directed at him. "Yeah ice-cream's good."

The main room of Tony's apartment consisted of a sitting room and small kitchen area, with a corner-shaped worktop keeping the two areas separate – kinda like the apartment in 'Friends'. Next to the kitchen was a hallway that led off to the bathroom and two bedrooms. Gibbs made his way to the kitchen, setting the beer and grocery bag on the worktop. It wasn't the first time Gibbs had been to Tony's apartment so he knew his way about the kitchen. He didn't have any trouble tracking down bowls and spoons.

"You want some?" he asked, pulling a tub of Double Fudge Chocolate-Chip ice-cream from the grocery bag.

"No thanks," said Tony, leaning against the worktop. Gibbs raised his eyebrows at him. "What?" he snapped.

"Never known you to turn down free ice-cream," said Gibbs, mildly. "You feeling alright, Tony?"

"I'm fine," grumbled Tony.

"If you say so." Though Gibbs didn't look as if Tony had convinced him. He opened the pack of beer, handed one to Tony and popped the cap off his own bottle. He took a long swig, letting his blue eyes meander the room. He pulled the bottle away from his lips with a satisfied sigh. "What's with the puzzle?"

"Huh?" Tony glanced over his shoulder, realizing the jigsaw still lay intact on the floor. "Oh, Megan was playing with it. Finished it in like twenty minutes."

"Really?" Gibbs sounded impressed. He scooped some ice-cream into a bowl. "You have any problems since you left the office?" he asked casually.

"No," said Tony, taking a swig of beer. It wasn't exactly a lie but it still felt like one.

"Uh-huh." Gibbs gave him one of those piercing looks that made him feel like he was being x-rayed. "She had anything to drink?"

The question caught Tony off guard. "Shit!" He hadn't even thought of that. How could he be so stupid?

"Relax, Tony, you'll get the hang of it," said Gibbs.

Tony felt like saying 'I don't wanna get the hang of it', instead he said: "There's milk in the fridge."

Gibbs plucked a mug from the wooden tree on the opposite counter and retrieved the milk from the fridge. After putting away the milk, beer and remaining ice-cream, Gibbs made his way over to Megan who was utterly oblivious to his presence. He set the mug of milk and bowl on the coffee table behind her and walked into her field of vision. When she saw him her face split into a dazzling smile, she sprang off the table and leapt into his arms. With a wide grin Gibbs lifted her off the floor and into a warm embrace. Tony tried to ignore the pang of jealously he felt at watching the interaction. He took another swig of beer and collapsed onto the couch. A moment later Gibbs joined him, sitting Megan between them. The ex-marine handed her the mug of milk which Megan gulped down in a few minutes; making Tony feel guiltier. Gibbs chuckled as he set the mug back on the table and handed her the ice-cream.

"Eat it slowly," he said, signing as he spoke.

For the next few minutes they sat in companionable silence just watching the movie. Tony sipped from his beer and pretended not to notice Megan as she snuggled against Gibbs.

"What the hell is this?" asked Gibbs, frowning at the plasma screen.

"Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." Gibbs turned to him and gave him a look that instantly had Tony feeling embarrassed. "What?"

"Isn't Harry Potter one of those things you tease McGee about?"

"Yeah – so – _she_ picked it!" Tony pointed a finger accusingly at Megan.

"You bought it," Gibbs pointed out.

"Only to use it as ammunition against Probie!" Tony defended himself.

"Uh-huh," said Gibbs, in a tone that suggested he didn't believe a word Tony said.

"It's true!" he insisted. Gibbs' only response was to give him an infuriatingly smug grin. Tony glared back at him, folding his arms brusquely against his chest. Gibbs chuckled and tousled Megan's hair.

They fell back into that companionable silence once again, the only sound coming from the TV. Tony really was being honest when it came to him not being a Harry Potter fan, like with a lot of DVDs he'd merely bought it out of curiosity and only watched it once, so he wasn't really surprised when he felt his attention begin to slide. He was just too tired to get drawn into poor Harry's plight. He put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. He was just starting to doze off again when the damn doorbell went.

He sighed. "What now?" With a groan he got to his feet and padded over to the door. He was surprised to find McGee at his doorstep. "McGoo! Were you're ears burning or something?"

"Huh?" McGee gave him that weird, confused look of his.

"Nothing," said Tony, leaning against the doorjamb. "So, Probie, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"Um . . . well . . . I . . ." He sighed. "I wanted to apologize . . . about what I said earlier, I was . . . out of line."

"Yeah," said Tony, crossing his arms over his chest. "You kinda were."

"I'm sorry, Tony, I was just surprised . . . I guess."

"Trust me, you weren't the only one," said Tony, heaving a sigh of his own.

"And for the record, if Megan really is yours, I don't think her mom is stupid for sleeping with you or for having your kid or for even leaving you in charge of her . . . but I _do_ think she's stupid for giving her up just because she can't hear."

Tony nodded. "Thanks, Tim."

"And you know what? I think Megan is pretty lucky," McGee added in a lighter tone, a small smile curving his mouth.

"What makes you say that?" asked Tony.

"As annoying and immature as you can be . . . I actually think you'd make a pretty good dad."

Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise, chuckling at the earnest conviction in McGee's voice. "Really?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well yeah, you're funny, caring, protective, and you're certainly not afraid to goof around – all the ingredients that make a great father."

Tony squirmed restlessly under McGee's gaze. He cleared his throat. "I'm sure there are a few things you've overlooked that would argue that point . . ." he said, trying to sound casual and unconcerned. ". . . but I'll keep that in mind, McGee."

"So, we cool?" McGee asked, uncertainly.

"Yeah, we're cool," answered Tony, shaking Tim's hand and forcing a bright, carefree grin onto his face. "You wanna join us?" He shifted his position so he was now leaning against the open door, giving McGee a clear view into the room. Gibbs threw up his arm briefly in greeting.

"McGee," he said, nodding slightly.

"Oh, uh . . . hey, boss." Tony grinned at the astonished look on McGee's face. Clearly the younger agent hadn't expected to find their boss making himself at home in Tony's apartment. "Sorry, Tony, but I'm gonna have to pass," he explained hastily.

Tony fought the urge to laugh. Even after all these years spent with NCIS, McGee still wasn't completely comfortable spending time with Gibbs out of working hours. Tony couldn't help but draw this out a little longer. "You sure, we've got beer and ice-cream?"

Not even the promise of frozen dessert could sway McGee. "Sorry, I've already made plans."

"Now, Timmy," said Tony, his tone taking on a teasing note. "We've talked about this. Online gaming does not count as a social life."

"Ha-ha, very funny. For your information I have a date tonight."

"Really?" said Tony, drawing the word out. "Anyone I know?" he asked, leering at the younger agent.

"Even if you did, I wouldn't tell you," said McGee, a slightly smug grin stealing across his face.

A dazzling grin lit up Tony's face as he felt a flash of pride for the younger man. Long gone were the days in which McGee could be so easily intimidated and Tony liked to think that he was at least partly responsible for McGee's transformation. "Well, alright, McGoo, just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's none of my business . . . but I think Ziva really regrets what she said."

Tony stiffened. Just when he thought things were finally back to normal between him and Ziva, she goes and throws him a curve ball like that. To suggest that she had always suspected him of being the kind of guy who would get a girl in 'trouble' and then not find out about it until it was too late . . . well, that had hurt, more than he cared to admit. It wasn't like he had asked for this to happen. Something of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because McGee was suddenly looking sheepish. He hastily threw up a carefree mask and nodded reassuringly to McGee. The younger man hesitated a moment before finally saying his good-byes and turning to leave. Tony closed the door and made his way back to the couch.

"Will you?" said Gibbs.

"Will I what?" asked Tony, confused.

"Keep what McGee said in mind?"

"You mean about me being 'great father' material?" asked Tony derisively, using air-quotes. "Pfft! McGee just said that so I wou–"

"He said it because its true, DiNozzo," Gibbs interrupted irritably. "If you don't trust your own judgment then trust the judgment of the people who know you best."

"Boss, McGee still thinks I had the ideal childhood, for Christ's sake!" said Tony incredulously.

"I meant _me_, Tony," said Gibbs, fixing him with a stern look.

"No offence, boss, but I'm pretty sure there are things about me not even _you_ know about," said Tony sardonically.

"You mean like how hard Kate's death hit you?" Gibbs challenged. Tony froze under Gibbs' steely, blue-eyed gaze. "Or how you dealt with it?"

"I-I don't know what –"

"Don't bullshit me, Tony!" Gibbs growled. "Do yah really think I didn't notice all those times you turned up for work late or hung-over?" he demanded. "Do yah think I never smelled the alcohol on your breath or saw the circles under your eyes?"

"H-how …?"

"I know you, Tony, that's how! You may have fooled McGee and Ziva – hell, even Abby – into thinking you were okay, but I could see you were hurting. And I'll admit it, I let you down. I should've followed my gut and said something. I should've helped you." He paused, his face tinged with regret. "But I didn't know what the hell I should say or do that would make a difference . . . I just wanted to put what happened to Kate behind me; like I put Shannon and Kelly behind me."

"I'm a big boy, boss, I can take care of myself," said Tony nonchalantly, not quite meeting Gibbs' eyes.

"I know that," Gibbs growled. "Makes no difference, five years ago I let you take care of yourself and look where it got us." He dropped his gaze pointedly to Megan, who was blissfully unaware of the serious conversation going on around her. Tony opened his mouth to argue but Gibbs stopped him with a look. "Tomorrow your whole life could change in an instant. No point denying it – no use running from the fact."

"I'm not – I w-wasn't …"

"Sooner or later you're gonna have to face this, DiNozzo, and then you're gonna have to make a decision."

Tony sighed. "I know."

Gibbs reached over and squeezed Tony's shoulder. "You're not alone in this . . . you remember that."

Tony forced himself to meet the ex-marine's serious blue-eyed gaze. Gibbs was right; there was no running from this. Tomorrow, like it or not, he would find out if he was a father. Just thinking about it caused him to feel a leap of fear. Over the years he'd joked about fathering children, like when he'd gotten those phone calls from the sperm-bank, but that's all it had ever been, a joke. He'd never seriously considered fatherhood, not even when he'd been seeing Jeanne and experiencing the first serious relationship of his life. He just wasn't suited to be a father, he wasn't like Gibbs or McGee who had grown up with two loving parents and a stable home life. Although his mother had been loving and affectionate, her career as an actress and singer came first, meaning Tony was left with his nanny most of the time, and as the years went on she began drinking a lot and suffered from bouts of depression. As for his father, he was so wrapped up in his own life he barely acknowledged he had a son. The first eight years of his life, Tony's time with his father had been extremely limited; they spent mealtimes together – when his father wasn't away on business – and after dinner Tony was allotted a small window of time to tell his father about his day at school; there were also various social functions they would attend as a family but besides that Tony didn't see much of his father in those early years. It wasn't until after Tony's mother died that his father had been forced to take a more active role in his upbringing. So Tony was dragged along on business trips and those stupid Civil War Reenactments, but Anthony DiNozzo senior was a changed man now he had lost his wife, he was colder, harder, and had little patience for a boy who couldn't live up to his high expectations. He began drinking heavily; getting drunk long into the night until he either passed out or worked himself into an uncontrollable fit of rage which he would unleash onto his young son. That wasn't the sort of background that turned out 'great father' material. He would just end up screwing up Megan's life and Tony didn't want that.

Problem was what other choice did he have? Either way somebody would have to take responsibility for this child, and although he didn't want to be the one to carry that responsibility he also didn't want her to end up with just anyone. It was apparent now that even if he did figure out who Megan's mother was, she was out of the picture for good. So where did that leave him? Social services was the obvious answer, but after all his time as a cop and hearing numerous horror stories about what sometimes happened to kids in foster homes, Tony was somewhat wary of that option. Perhaps adoption was the answer. Surely it couldn't be that difficult to track down a decent family who'd be more than happy to adopt Megan. _What if it's not that simple?_ Asked a nagging voice of doubt, at the back Tony's mind. _Don't most parents want their children to be perfect? Isn't that why her own mother just dumped her at your doorstep? What happens if other people act like that?_ No that wouldn't happen, it couldn't. Just because Megan's idiot mother was so narrow-minded didn't mean other people would look at Megan and see a . . . a disabled kid . . . right?

"You still with me, DiNozzo?"

Tony jumped. He'd almost forgotten that Gibbs was still facing him, waiting for some kind of response. "Huh?" he said in confusion. "Oh, sorry, boss, I was just –"

"Gathering wool?"

"Yeah, something like that," he muttered, rubbing his temples, feeling a tension headache gathering behind his eyes. "It's just been . . . a long day."

Gibbs' blue eyes passed over him in an assessing sort of manner. "Why don't I put this one to bed –" he nodded towards Megan, "– so you can get some shuteye?"

"You don't have to do that, Gibbs, I mean . . . its still early," said Tony, even though he really liked the sound of that idea. "OW!" he cried as he received an unexpected slap to the head.

"That wasn't a suggestion, DiNozzo," growled Gibbs.

"Right," said Tony, rubbing his head. "You don't suggest you order, got it, boss. Thanks."

Megan pouted and made a cute, grumbling sort of sound when Gibbs explained it was 'bedtime'. "She have any pajamas?" Gibbs asked, lifting a disgruntled Megan into his arms.

"Probably . . . check the suitcase she had with her, it's in my bedroom. She can sleep in my bed again." Gibbs merely nodded as he carried Megan in the direction of the bedroom. "I really appreciate this, boss," Tony called as the marine disappeared.

"Yeah well, wouldn't want to give you any reason for showing up late tomorrow, would I, DiNozzo?" Gibbs called back sarcastically.

Tony rolled his eyes and smirked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Author's Note:(Don't be confused by what you're about to read, it will make sense in a minute I promise.)**

"Shooter!"

Tony looked up in time to see Kate dive in front of Gibbs, shielding him from the gunman whose weapon was aimed at the lead agent's back. She grunted as she took the bullet and fell to the ground, unmoving. He and Gibbs didn't give the gunman a chance to let off another round, together they opened fire, killing the guy before he even hit the ground. With the threat gone their attention turned back to Kate, who was yet to show any sign of life.

"Kate?" called Gibbs, rushing forward.

Tony reached her first; Gibbs joined him a second later. Fearing the worst, he rolled her over and unzipped her windbreaker. He dropped his head in relief and shared a look with Gibbs when he saw the bullet safely lodged in her vest. Her eyes flickered open as she released a pained breath.

"You okay?" he asked, as Gibbs gently smoothed back a stray lock of her hair.

"Ow!" she groaned. "I just got shot at point-blank range, DiNozzo. What do you think?"

"You're not gonna be going to Pilates class tomorrow?" he joked, eliciting a small smirk from Gibbs.

_Keep her down, _whispered a small urgent voice at the back of Tony's mind. _Don't let her stand up!_ Kate groaned again. Despite the warning, and the sudden feeling of dread, Tony helped Kate to her feet.

"Protection detail is over, Kate," said Gibbs.

_Get her back down,_ the voice urged, louder and more frantic this time. _Quick, before it's too late!_ Tony wanted to obey, but it was like his body had a mind of its own. As if some unseen hand was pulling his strings, forcing him to stand there and wait for something terrible to happen.

"You did good," he heard himself say, as his mind screamed at him to do something – _anything _to stop what was about to happen.

"For once, DiNozzo's right," said Gibbs with a slight smile.

Kate laughed, and Tony knew, with gut-wrenching certainty, it would be the last time he would ever hear her do so.

"Wow. I thought I'd die before I ever got a complim–"

**BANG!**

Tony flinched both from the sound and the spray of warm blood hitting him in the face. _NO! _He thought, as horror consumed him. He heard Kate's lifeless body hit the ground with a dull thud. _NO!_ He thought again. _Not again! Not again!_ He knew exactly what he'd see if he looked down – there was no need for him to see it again, once had been enough to forever burn it into his memory – but it was like he couldn't help himself and he looked anyway. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. The dream had taken a sudden and horrifying twist. The empty eyes that stared back at Tony did not belong to Kate. The hair surrounded by a halo of blood was blonde not brunette. It was not Kate who lay dead at Tony's feet, it was Megan. No, no, no! This wasn't right, it didn't happen like this! Megan hadn't even been on that rooftop. It was all wrong! But the evidence was right there in front him, staring at him with accusing, vacant eyes. He dropped to his knees, reaching out to touch her but at that precise moment Megan's mouth flew open and a deafening, high-pitched scream burst forth from her lifeless body.

Tony woke with a jolt, frowning in confusion when the piercing scream from his nightmare continued. It took him a befuddled few seconds to realize that the scream was real and coming from his bedroom. _Megan!_ He thought with a spasm of fear. His heart racing, Tony leapt off the couch and ran as fast as his sleep-heavy limbs would allow. Fortunately for him, even when half asleep, he still knew his apartment well enough to keep from plowing head-on into a wall in the darkness. He skidded into his bedroom to find Megan sitting up in bed, screaming, a look of pure terror on her face. Tony didn't think he simply acted on instinct. He rushed forward and pulled Megan into his arms. In hindsight it was probably a stupid thing to do. He had no idea if Megan was awake enough to recognize it was him, his actions could have easily scared her even more. Luckily, this time at least he'd done the right thing. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and began to cry. Tony sat on the edge of the bed, holding her close, taking comfort from the steady beat of her heart he could feel against his chest. He was panting and trembling almost as much as Megan as he tried to recover from his own nightmare. He combed his fingers through her hair in a soothing gesture while his other hand rubbed small circles into her back.

"Ssssh," he muttered, pressing his cheek against her head. "I got yah, I got yah."

He knew it was silly to continue speaking to her when she couldn't hear him but it made him feel better to say the words out loud. Tony wasn't sure how long they stayed like that before Megan's sobs eventually fell silent, and his own heart rate returned to normal. After another few minutes Megan pulled back and looked at him with big, watery eyes. And just like that, Tony felt awkward again. Now that the adrenaline had left his system he had no idea what to do next. Once again he regretted turning down Abby's offer to spend the night; she was just so good at these kinds of things, she would know exactly what to do. He was half tempted to call her and ask for her advice, if anyone would be up this late it would be Abby. He quickly dismissed the idea, however, since he didn't want to come across as completely inept – even if that was the case. _Okay, just relax, Tony, this isn't rocket science after all, _he chided himself. _All you have to do is . . . err – _Megan sniffed and wiped her runny nose on her pajama sleeve – _clean her up!_ Yeah he could handle that. He should probably get a fresh T-shirt too since Megan's tears had soaked the front of the one he was currently wearing.

He lifted her off his lap, and set her on the bed before flicking on the bedside lamp; blinking at the sudden brightness. With no tissues at hand, Tony whipped off his shirt and used that to wipe Megan's face clean, disposing it in the laundry basket when he was finished. He grabbed a fresh shirt from the dresser and pulled it over his head. He returned to the bed and gently pushed Megan against the pillow, tucking her back under the covers. He was about to leave when she made a sound of distress and grabbed him by the wrist with both of her tiny hands. He froze, not sure how to react.

"S'okay," he said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder with his free hand. "Go back to sleep, it was just a bad dream. You're safe now." He tried to pull away but Megan clung on even tighter. He sighed. "What? What do you want?"

She tugged on his arm, pulling him slightly closer to the bed. "No!" he said, shaking his head, as comprehension dawned. "You sleep here, I sleep on the couch." He tried pulling his wrist free again, but Megan stubbornly clung on. He gave her his best 'Gibbs-glare' but it was difficult to maintain it when she was pouting at him like that. "Fine!" he exclaimed impatiently.

He threw back the covers and perched on the mattress, at which point Megan released his wrist. He made a shooing gesture with his hands so she would budge up before swinging his legs onto the bed. He made a show of fluffing the pillow, and getting comfortable, drawing the comforter around him before switching off the lamp and lying down.

"Happy now?" he grumbled in the darkness. Megan's only response was to snuggle closer to him; she wasn't quite touching him but she wasn't far from it either. "Go to sleep," he muttered, knowing full well how pointless it was to do so.

He told himself he'd only stay as long as it took Megan to fall asleep. He had no intentions of spending the rest of the night here. Tony had never been allowed to sleep in his parent's bed as a child and he wasn't about to encourage such habits in Megan, even if she was here for just a little while. However, he hadn't taken into account just how shaken his nightmare had left him. Lying there, listening to Megan's soft, even breathing was ridiculously reassuring. He yawned, wide enough his jaw popped, and settled more snugly against his pillow. He gave up the battle to keep his eyes from closing and let himself drift slowly off to sleep.

The next thing Tony knew his alarm clock was blaring in his ears and he was blinking in the muted early morning light. He groaned, pressing his face against the pillow. Why did the damn thing have to be on the other side of the bed? With a sigh, he lifted his head and peered over at the alarm clock, trying to judge how much effort it would take on his part to switch it off. If only he had something to throw. His head dropped back onto the pillow with another sigh. It was no use, he would have to get up. As he became more aware of his surroundings he suddenly realized there was a warm body pressed against him. He raised his head off the pillow and glanced down. Megan was curled against his side in what had to be an extremely uncomfortable position. Her head – which had slipped off the pillow – was tucked forward so that her forehead lay touching Tony's shoulder, her legs were folded almost to her chest and wedged against Tony's ribcage, and one of her arms was curled behind her back while the other was fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Despite the awkward position, she seemed to be sleeping soundly. Tony could feel her slow, snuffling breaths brushing against the skin on his arm. He also became suddenly aware that she was sleeping on his hand, which had gone numb. Doing his best not to disturb her, he gingerly slid his hand out from under her torso, wincing when the movement caused him to get that weird prickling 'pins-and-needles' sensation.

Once the feeling returned to his hand Tony gently pried his shirt from Megan's grasp and slid out of bed to switch off the alarm. As silence fell over the room Tony raked a hand through his messy hair and glanced over at Megan. She was still curled up in that awkward position and Tony didn't feel right just leaving her hunched up like that while he got ready. He hesitated for half a second before walking round the bed and carefully moving her so her head lay on the pillow and her legs were straightened out. _Kid certainly is a heavy sleeper, _he observed silently, when the movement did nothing to rouse Megan. He pulled the comforter back around her and then padded over to his closet, taking out a fresh suit for work. Glancing back at the bed once more, Tony left the bedroom and went to the bathroom to get ready.

Once he was showered, shaved, dressed, and assured that his hair was styled to his liking, Tony returned to his bedroom. He froze in the doorway, however, when he discovered the bed empty and Megan missing. _Shit! Not again._ He was just about to search the room high and low for her when a sudden loud clang from the main living area had him running down the hall. His heart almost leapt out of his chest when he found her in the kitchen, her back to him, standing on her tip-toes, peering into a cupboard full of spare pots and kitchen utensils. She'd ingeniously used a stack of cabinet drawers as a staircase and had apparently knocked a large baking bowl out of the cupboard she was rifling through, which was still spinning on the kitchen floor. She wasn't really tall enough to get more than a fleeting peek inside the cupboard and was clearly straining to maintain her fragile grip upon the lowest cupboard shelf. Tony watched transfixed as Megan's fumbling fingers snagged onto the power cord of a large, expensive blender Tony's father had sent him for his last birthday. If he'd had any sense he would have calmly walked into the kitchen, made Megan aware of his presence and then lifted her down before she came to any harm. Unfortunately, all sense went out the window when Megan slipped and she used the power cord to save herself from falling, tugging on it so that the large, heavy blender slid forward a few inches. Tony panicked. Without a second thought, he leapt across the worktop that fenced off his kitchen and snatched Megan down to safety. Afterwards, he would realize just what a stupid thing that was to do. As he grabbed Megan she let out a startled shriek – a sound that scared Tony so much he almost dropped her – she also dragged the blender right out of the cupboard so it came crashing down, missing her head by inches, and smashed to the floor with a loud clatter. His heart racing, Tony set Megan safely on the floor away from the wrecked blender and turned her around to face him. But the damage had already been done. He watched helplessly as Megan's face screwed up and she burst into tears – almost deafening him with her loud, screaming wails.

The tears were different from the ones she'd cried last night but in many ways they were worse because it was Tony who was to blame for them. _Nice going, DiNozzo,_ he scolded himself. He tried to calm down. He could fix this, he knew he could, he'd stopped her crying last night he could do it again he was sure of it . . . well, pretty sure.

"Ssh! Ssh! Don't cry it's just me!" he babbled, crouching down and patting her on the arm. _What good will that do? She can't hear you, _his mind berated him.

He tried to pull her into a hug but Megan twisted out of his grasp and screamed even louder. That wasn't a good sign, not good at all. Only Tony DiNozzo could manage to make a kid hate him in less than forty-eight hours. _C'mon, think! You've seen plenty of parents in the street and supermarket with screaming kids, what do they do to calm them down?_ Tony suddenly felt like Gibb-slapping himself; if only he'd stuck around long enough to find out what such parents did in these circumstances. He glanced about the kitchen for inspiration and found it in the shape of Megan's stuffed rabbit, which lay abandoned on the worktop he'd rescued her from. He jumped to his feet and dashed over to it. Unfortunately, it seemed like the fates were messing with Tony today. In his haste to calm Megan he forgot all about the broken blender lying in pieces on the floor. He made the mistake of stepping on one of the fragments of shattered plastic. It might as well have been a banana peel. He slipped and was sent skidding across the kitchen floor before his feet lost all contact with the ground as his body flipped over and his back slammed into the ground with a force that knocked all the wind out of him. He lay there for several dazed seconds like an upturned turtle, unable to breathe or think clearly.

"Ow!" he wheezed at length, through gritted teeth. The kitchen was deathly silent for half a heartbeat and then it was broken by Megan who started giggling uncontrollably. "You have a . . . very . . . sadistic sense of humor . . . you know that?" he panted, sipping in small breaths.

His head was spinning from where he'd smacked it against the floor, it may have been his imagination but Tony could swear he could actually _feel_ the large bump forming on the back of his skull. He was still having a little trouble breathing but it didn't feel like he'd broken any bones, he could still feel his toes so his back must be alright, the only immediate discomfort he could feel in that area came from the various fragments of blender he was lying on – although he was certain that should he move even an inch his back would make an angry complaint. Megan's face suddenly appeared upside down in Tony's field of vision as she leaned over his head. Her tear-streaked face was lit up in a dazzling smile.

"Least you're not . . . crying anymore," he said, wincing. The kid certainly was fond of slapstick.

She moved out of his eye line and Tony felt a sudden tug on his arm. Groaning, he gingerly rolled onto his side letting Megan pull him up. He tried sitting up, got so far and froze as a spasm of pain shot up his spine. He let out a very unmanly squeak and collapsed onto the floor again, dragging Megan down on top of him. She landed with a thud on his chest, knocking what little air he'd managed to coax into his lungs back out again. Megan let out another peal of giggles. She seemed to think this whole thing was hilarious. If this was happening to somebody else Tony would probably find it amusing too. Still, it was gratifying to know that his moment of clumsiness had cheered her up. All his life Tony had used his sense of humor and clown persona as a buffer between him and the rest of the world. It was comforting to know that even when it seemed like his life had spiraled out of his control he could still fall back on his humor – however involuntary it might be – to help him through most scrapes.

Still giggling, Megan crawled off him and gave another tug on his arm. This time Tony made it to his hands and knees before his back seized up again. Megan seemed to take this prolonged position as some kind of invitation and promptly jumped – rather violently it must be said – onto his back like he was some sort of fairground pony! The violent way in which she did this came out of pure necessity; Megan wasn't tall enough to swing her leg over his back so she opted for belly-flopping onto him instead, hauling herself up the rest of the way with her fingernails. Another of those unmanly squeaks escaped Tony as she did this. He grunted a second later when she kicked him in the gut – her meaning was perfectly clear: '_giddy-up._'

"You're . . . not . . . helping . . ." he groaned, as his back gave another painful twinge. "Must . . . get . . . aspirin!"

He reached up his hand and clutched hold of the worktop. Megan – instead of doing the helpful thing by sliding off his poor, abused spine – laid herself flat and wrapped her arms around his neck in anticipation of his next move. Using the worktop to help pull him to his feet, Tony groaned and squeaked as he slowly eased himself up off the floor. He leaned over the worktop for several minutes, catching his breath. He then wrapped his hand around Megan's skinny arm, ensuring she wouldn't fall off, and quickly straightened up. There was a loud crunching sound as several vertebrae announced their presence; Tony sighed in relief. He knew his back would still give him a bit of jip throughout the day but at least now he could move without feeling intense pain. He turned around and let Megan slide off his back so she was now sitting on the worktop. When he turned back to face her she had a big smile for him. He felt a reluctant smile curling the corners of his own mouth.

"I guess you're hungry, huh, Tarzan?" he asked, teasingly. Picking her back up Tony carried her over to the cupboard where he kept the cereal and pulled open the door. "I've got Fruit Loops, Captain Crunch, Cheerios, Lucky Charms and Shredded Wheat," he said, pointing out each box. Megan reached forward and tapped one of the boxes with her fingertips. "Lucky Charms it is then." He pulled out the cereal box and handed it to Megan while he got a bowl down from another cupboard. "Ha! And to think my co-workers mock me for indulging in kid's cereal."

He settled Megan at the coffee table to eat her Lucky Charms while he returned to the kitchen to clean up the mess and get himself an aspirin. "I've never even used this stupid thing," Tony muttered, as he dumped the remains of the blender in the trashcan, marveling at how inept his father's personal assistant was at picking out gifts for him. He glanced at his watch. He should really be getting ready to leave for work about now. Megan had finished her breakfast and was now watching SpongeBob Squarepants on one of the kid channels. This time Tony made sure she could see him before he picked her up. He carried her back to the bedroom, set her down on the floor, and ducked under the bed to pull out her suitcase.

He figured, since he'd done it yesterday with no problems, dressing Megan today would be easy. How wrong he was. It quickly became apparent that the three-year-old was still in a funny mood. She suddenly came over all ticklish; every time Tony attempted to remove her pajama top she would collapse in a fit of giggles, clamping her arms to her sides making it damn near impossible to remove the shirt. She also developed an opinion on every item of clothing he selected for her; she shook her head and swatted away the offending garment each time Tony presented her with a new top or pair of pants. He was effectively being told – _silently – _by a three-year-old of all people, that he had no sense of style! It was almost more than Tony could take. Eventually, they settled on a flared denim skirt, multicolored stripy tights, and a turquoise long-sleeved t-shirt with white paint splatters on the front and the words 'Messy Megan' scrawled across the chest in purple chicken-scratch (Tony got the impression that the design was handmade). Of course, just when he thought he was getting somewhere, Megan decided to go as floppy as a ragdoll, collapsing dramatically onto the floor with a cheeky grin on her face, making dressing her a goddamn challenge.

Forty-five minutes after he first began Tony was to be found with Megan's sneaker clad foot propped in his lap as he tied her laces. She was still sprawled on the floor by his feet but at least she was _finally_ dressed! A soft, tinkling music caught his attention and Tony glanced down to see Megan playing on one of those DS-thingies he'd seen advertised on TV. Where on earth had she gotten that from? He gazed about in confusion, spotting her purple rucksack lying open by her side. Frowning, he picked it up. Inside he found some sort of case for the DS-thingy and a number of game cartridges. Along with that there was also a coloring book, a sketchpad, a box of crayons, a packet of felt-tip pens, and two bottles of strawberry-scented kid's shampoo and conditioner. They were the sort of thing you would pack if your kid was going on a trip, or a weekend holiday, but not the thing you packed when your intentions were to abandon your child on some guy's doorstep. Where were the rest of her toys? Where were the rest of her clothes? Tony's hands fisted in the rucksack, as he felt a sudden rush of anger and hate toward the woman responsible for packing this measly collection of personal items. As far as he could tell there wasn't a single reminder to show that Megan had once been loved and cared for, not a photograph, or knickknack or anything like that. She was only three going on four, people rarely recalled their early childhood what if Megan forgot all about her grandmother because her callous bitch of a mother didn't have the decency to pack something as simple as a photograph.

Tony took several deep breaths, forcing his anger back down. At this rate he was already going to be late for work, no sense wasting even more time mulling over things he couldn't fix. He closed the rucksack, deciding it would be a good idea to bring it along with him, and reached down to pick Megan up by the armpits. Now that she had something to occupy that busy little mind of hers, Megan was far more cooperative as Tony herded her out of the apartment and down to the car – although he did have to grab her by the scruff several times to stop her walking into things, since her eyes were glued to her videogame.

* * *

Tony sighed in relief when the elevator finally deposited him to the squad-room. Yes he was late but no more than usual. He strolled over to his desk, towing Megan along by her shirt; she really had developed an unhealthy obsession for that computer game thing.

"You're late," Ziva observed casually, "_again_."

"What can I say, somebody had themselves a little sugar-rush this morning and thought it would be funny to mess around instead of getting dressed," he explained nonchalantly. "I'm beginning to understand why my father didn't approve of me eating candy."

He swung his pack onto the floor, letting out a surprised gasp of pain when his back reminded him of his little mishap from earlier that morning.

"What happened to you?" McGee asked.

"Well, Timmy, after you left last night me and the Bossman got a little drunk and decided to show Megan a couple of wrestling moves," he joked. McGee arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Let's just say little Meg here is a fast learner . . . and surprisingly strong for one so small."

"Uh-huh," said McGee, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll take that to mean you slept on your couch last night."

"Good thinking, McSmarty-Pants," Tony cried, pointing at McGee like he'd just solved one of their cases. "That is also a feasible explanation why my back might be hurting this morning, we'll go with your excuse, wouldn't want anyone to know I got my ass handed to me by a three-year-old."

McGee rolled his eyes before a smirk appeared on his lips. "You know it could be a sign of old age," he suggested.

"Nonsense, I'm as young and sprightly as the day I first started at NCIS." There was a snort of contempt from the other side of the bullpen. Tony shot a glare in Ziva's direction.

"How old are you again?" McGee asked, openly grinning now.

"None of your business," Tony said with dignity, dragging a spare chair over to his desk for Megan.

"You realize, of course, I can always look into your file and find out," McGee said smugly.

"You keep your greasy mitts out of my file, McButter-Nutter, or I'll show _you_ some of my wrestling moves," Tony warned lightly.

"Fine, I'll just ask Abby then."

"Ha!" Tony exclaimed triumphantly, sitting down. "Abby would never tell."

"Oh really? And what makes you say that?" asked McGee cynically.

"Abby would never tell 'cause she knows if she did I would be forced to reveal how old _she_ is!"

"You know how old Abby is?" McGee asked incredulously, perking up at this information.

Tony gave McGee an insolent wink and tapped the side of his nose. He turned away from McGee's astonished face and powered up his computer. It felt good to be exchanging playful banter with the younger agent again, it felt normal, like any other day at the office but as they fell into a companionable silence a nervous energy began to build up in Tony's body, before long he found himself fidgeting. His palms were sweaty, and it felt like a nest of vipers had taken up residence in his gut. Any minute now Abby could appear, or call with the results from the paternity test and Tony honestly had no idea what outcome he was rooting for. If they came back negative, great he was off the hook . . . but where did that leave Megan? He wouldn't have any say in what happened to her and Tony wasn't sure he liked the idea of that very much. If they came back positive . . . hell, that was still a pretty scary thought to contemplate. He would have to make some kind of decision about her future that much he knew . . . but he was still in turmoil about what was best for Megan, so right now Tony had no idea what choice he would make. _Carry on like this, Tony, _he chided himself mentally, _and you'll end up with an ulcer._ He glanced up as Gibbs abruptly marched into the bullpen.

"Grab your gear," he barked. "Got a dead marine in Shenandoah River State Park."

For the first time since he'd joined Gibbs' team Tony failed to spring out of his chair to obey the ex-marine's command. "Err . . . Boss?"

Gibbs glanced up as he pulled his sig from his desk drawer. Tony could've sworn he saw the lead agent blush ever so slightly – giving him the impression that Gibbs had forgotten about Megan. However, Gibbs didn't miss a beat.

"McGee, gas the truck," he ordered, tossing the keys at the younger man.

"On it, boss," McGee replied obediently, hurrying out of the bullpen, Ziva close behind him.

"DiNozzo, why don't you take Megan down to Abby," said Gibbs, rounding his desk.

"Abby?" squeaked Tony. _OH NO,_ he thought anxiously. That was the last place he wanted to visit right now.

"Yeah, DiNozzo, don't have to give yah directions, do I?" Gibbs asked sarcastically.

"Course not, boss," Tony answered with a weak smile. He pulled open his desk drawer, taking out his holster and gun.

As he got ready to leave, Gibbs tapped Megan lightly on the head to get her attention and started signing to her; Tony squashed the twinge of resentment he felt towards Gibbs for being able to communicate so easily with Megan. _Not his fault he can sign and you can't,_ he told himself.

"Everything go okay after I left you two last night?" Gibbs asked casually.

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes and make some kind of sarcastic remark. "Yeah fine," he said instead. Gibbs gave him a piercing look, his expression slightly doubtful. "Alright, so one of us may have had a nightmare," he admitted grudgingly.

"One of you?" asked Gibbs, arching an eyebrow. Tony didn't like how that expression seemed to suggest that Gibbs knew he wasn't being entirely truthful about just one of them having a nightmare.

"Yeah," he began hesitantly. "Megan woke up crying . . . but it was fine, I fixed it, got her to calm down all by myself," he stated, puffing his chest out proudly, a smug grin on his lips.

"Good for you, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, sounding amused.

"Downside was she made me stay with her for the rest of the night," Tony added, making it sound like it was a big inconvenience.

"Oh . . ." Gibbs said, nodding. "She _made_ you, huh?" His tone was light and teasing as the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

Tony frowned and waved a finger at his boss' face. "Hey, what's that expression supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously.

Gibbs' half-smile blossomed into a full grin that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Shaking his head he strode out of the bullpen without answering. He was almost at the elevator when he called out again. "If you're not out by that truck in the next five minutes, DiNozzo, we leave without yah!"

"On your six, boss!" Tony yelled, hastily towing Megan in the opposite direction.

* * *

Tony had never considered visiting Abby as an unpleasant experience before, but as he rode down the elevator and nervously poked his head inside her lab he honestly couldn't recall ever feeling this apprehensive. Her music was blaring away as usual, but not so much as to warrant him covering his ears. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, glancing about, wondering where the Goth might be lurking. He cleared his throat, which had gone suddenly dry, and called out.

"Abby?"

"Tony!" she cried, popping up like a jack-in-the-box behind the glass in her ballistics lab, making Tony jump in alarm. She had earmuffs around her neck so Tony figured she must be working on something for another team. "How did last night go?" she asked, making her way towards him.

"Uh . . . fine," he answered, forcing his legs to keep still and not back up like they wanted to.

"If you're here for the paternity results I don't have them yet –" Tony tried not to sag in relief "– but I should have them for you really soon. Aren't you excited?" she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Oh . . . ah, well . . . that's certainly one way to describe how I'm feeling, I guess," he said awkwardly, trying not to show how petrified he actually was. "Look, err . . . we've got a case, would you mind –?"

"Watching her for you? I'd love to!" Abby exclaimed eagerly. "And by the time you get back, I should have the results for you!"

"Ha, ha . . . great," he said, forcing a grin onto his mouth.

* * *

Tony had trouble focusing his attention on the case, his mind kept wandering back to Abby's lab and the test results that were brewing away, getting ready to possibly blow Tony's world apart. Marine sergeant Dominic Rossetto's body had been discovered by a married couple who were camping in the Park; according to the husband, early that morning, he'd gone to answer nature's call and – much to his abject horror – had stumbled upon the body. Given the state of decomposition the sergeant had clearly been here a few weeks at least. On a more disgusting note, his body had become food for the local animals and insects. Tony repressed a shudder. One thing was for sure, when Tony eventually croaked he was having his body cremated; no way in hell anything was making a banquet out of him! Apart from the damage done by the local fauna, there was no obvious sign of foul play or trauma to the victim.

"Cause of death, Duck?" Gibbs asked, crouching next to the medical examiner.

"Hard to say, Jethro," Ducky replied. "Given the lack of physical injury I would only be speculating."

"Speculate, Duck," Gibbs insisted.

Ducky sighed. "It's possible our marine died from natural causes; a heart attack perhaps."

"Is it possible someone could have made his death look like natural causes?" asked Gibbs.

"Perhaps, I won't know for sure until I get him back."

"Thanks, Duck," said Gibbs, rising to his feet.

"Mr. Palmer, fetch the gurney please," Ducky ordered mildly.

"Yes, Doctor."

Tony was taking shots of the scene when Palmer passed him on his way to the truck. "Hey, Tony?" The Italian glanced up from the view screen of his camera. "Is it true you've been accompanied by a kid the past two days?" Palmer asked. When Tony just gave him a blank look the young Medical assistant chuckled nervously. "Have you started a babysitting business or is there something you've forgotten to mention?"

Tony glared at him. The smile slid off Palmer's face. "Fetch the gurney, Palmer!" barked Tony irritably.

"I – right," said Jimmy, turning on his heel and heading for the truck.

Tony grumbled under his breath as he finished shooting the scene. Great, now his life had been reduced to the latest bit of scuttlebutt. What was the world coming to? He took a few calming breaths, trying and failing to clear his mind. It was no use; his head just wasn't in the game. If he didn't pull it together soon Gibbs would notice – after all, as he'd learned last night, it seemed the ex-marine was particularly good at reading Tony's moods. Tony wasn't sure if he was happy with this new found knowledge, he'd always thought he was pretty good at hiding his true feelings. Maybe Abby was onto something with her 'Gibbs-is-magic' theory. His ears pricked up when he heard his name spoken. Glancing up he spotted McGee and Ziva a few feet away having a hushed conversation. Judging by the harassed expression on Ziva's face and the serious one on McGee's, Tony guessed that the Probie was nagging her about something and since he'd heard his name being mentioned it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it was about the 'disagreement' they'd had yesterday. On the pretense of taking more crime scene photos he edged closer to McGee and Ziva, so he could hear their conversation.

"– I'm just saying if you just apolo-"

"I have _nothing_ to apologize for, McGee!" Ziva hissed angrily.

"Are you honestly telling me you're proud of your reaction?" asked McGee. "Let's face it neither of us were very supportive!"

"What was I supposed to do?" she demanded in a sharp whisper. "Shake his hand and say: 'congratulations, you're an idiot'?"

Tony's brow drew together in a frown. He gripped the camera in his hands so tight his knuckles turned white. So now she thought he was an idiot, eh?

"_Ziva!_" hissed McGee. Tony could feel the Probie's gaze on the back of his skull. McGee dropped his voice even lower as he continued. "If you carry on with that attitude you and Tony will never work things out!" Ziva snorted. "Look," McGee continued, sounding frustrated. "Just swallow your pride for two seconds and say you're sorry, I did it and I feel much better."

"I'm not apologizing for speaking the truth, McGee!" snapped Ziva. "The fact that Tony took offense to what I said is just further proof of how immature he is!"

Tony barely resisted the urge to growl in anger.

"Ziva, you might as well have told him you'd placed bets on something like this happening!" said McGee, exasperated.

"Well maybe I should have, we all knew this was going to happen eventually with his reckless lifestyle!" Ziva snarled.

That did it, Tony couldn't take it anymore. He gave up all pretenses and strode over to where McGee and Ziva were standing.

"Shouldn't you two be working?" he demanded sharply.

McGee jumped in alarm while Ziva merely glared. "Oh . . . err . . . Tony," McGee stuttered. "We were just –"

"Having a rather _animated_ conversation by the looks of it," Tony observed, barely containing his anger. "Something wrong?"

"N-no," stammered McGee, quailing slightly under Tony's furious gaze – something the Probie hadn't done in many years. "Actually . . . we . . . I . . . Ziva has something she wants to say to you. _Don't you_, Ziva?" he said awkwardly, giving Ziva a pointed look.

Ziva glared daggers at McGee, looking very much like she wanted to cause the computer expert great physical pain.

"Is that right?" said Tony – voice bristling with sarcasm – as he turned his gaze onto Ziva. He kept a tight rein on his emotions, not quite ready to blow up at her just yet. He wanted to see if she would say the things he'd overheard to his face.

"Yes," said Ziva, now glaring daggers at him. "I'm sorry, Tony –" McGee grinned triumphantly "– I lied to you yesterday, I _was_ surprised by what you told me –" Tony arched an eyebrow, while McGee gave him an 'I-told-you-so' expression "– I was also disappointed." McGee's smug expression deflated. He looked at Ziva aghast. "How could you be so careless?" she demanded. "I thought you had more sense than this!"

"You know what? You sound just like my father!" said Tony angrily, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well maybe you should have taken his advice!" retorted Ziva.

"Er, Ziva," McGee interjected, clearly trying to resolve the situation before it got out of hand.

"Yeah 'cause taking the advice of drunken slob who only cares about himself really would have helped me in life!" Tony said his tone dry and emotionless.

"That's right, Tony, blame all your problems on your father, very mature!" said Ziva, a sarcastic bite in her voice.

"Hmm, I seem to know _someone_ _else_ who does that a lot more than _I_ do!" Tony snapped, causing Ziva to gape at him. "And I'm not blaming my problems on my father. Five years ago, when all this _supposedly_ went down, I was going through a lot of things – I wasn't thinking straight!"

"What could possibly have been bothering you so much that you –"

"How about losing my partner?" Tony interrupted hotly.

"As I recall you seemed to handle that pretty well, chasing every skirt in a two mile radius for instance!" said Ziva derisively.

McGee paled and opened his mouth to interrupt again but Tony cut across him before he could utter a single sound.

"Well clearly you don't know me as well as you _think_ you do!"

Ziva sighed in exasperation. "Tony, you are not the first person to lose someone close to you! It's no excuse –"

"You weren't there!" Tony yelled furiously, breathing heavily and gripping his camera so hard his fingers hurt. "One minute she was laughing and joking, the next she was dead with a bullet hole through her head and I'm wearing her blood like freaking war paint!"

"You are also _not_ the first person to watch someone you care about die!" Ziva hissed venomously. "At least for Kate it was over in a second!"

SMACK!

McGee gasped in horror and disbelief as Tony's hand connected with Ziva's cheek. He goggled at Tony in astonishment. Ziva slowly raised her hand to her face and pressed it against her cheek. At first she looked dumbfounded but as the seconds ticked by and the shock wore off slightly her expression turned livid. McGee – suddenly afraid for Tony's safety – instinctively took a step between them, with vague intentions of stopping Ziva from killing Tony where he stood.

Tony trembled with rage, his heart was racing, his breathing was erratic and the sound of rushing blood filled his ears. How dare she . . . how dare she just . . . _dismiss_ Kate's death like . . . like it was . . . nothing! She had no right! She hadn't even known Kate. She had no idea how it had affected him – how it _still_ affected him. Vaguely, he was aware of many sets of eyes trained upon him; his little outburst had attracted the attention of everyone in the vicinity, from the local brass, who had called them to the scene, to the rest of his team. At that moment, however, Tony couldn't summon the appropriate amount of humility to give a damn. Let them stare, he couldn't care less. He didn't even regret slapping Ziva, at least not right now, not while adrenaline and indignant fury still pumped through his veins. He thrust his camera at McGee, who caught it with clumsy hands, and before either he or Ziva could utter a sound Tony turned and marched away. He made his way toward Ducky's truck.

"You mind if I ride with you guys, Ducky?" Tony asked stiffly.

Ducky shared a look with Palmer, glanced briefly over at Ziva before returning his attention onto Tony. "Well, certainly, Anthony, if you wish," Ducky said hesitantly.

"Thanks, Ducky," said Tony. "You ready to go?"

"Yes, but don't you think you should –"

"NO!" snapped Tony, climbing into the truck – not entirely sure of what he'd interrupted Ducky from saying but not the least bit interested in hearing it.

Ducky and Palmer shared another fleeting look. "Come along, Jimmy," Ducky said with a sigh.

"Yes, Doctor."

Tony was too busy glaring out the passenger's side window to notice the pointed look the medical examiner aimed at Gibbs, who was currently making his way towards Ziva. Gibbs returned Ducky's look with a nod, his meaning quite clear: '_I'll get to the bottom of this._' Ducky shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition and started up the truck. Gibbs waited until the truck was out of sight before starting on Ziva.

"What the _hell_ did you say to him?" he snarled in a low and dangerous voice.

"Me!" cried Ziva indignantly. "Why do you assume this is my fault?"

"'Cause it was," muttered McGee.

"_He_ hit _me!_"

"Yeah, I saw that. Why?" demanded Gibbs.

"It was nothing, Tony just overreacted like he always does," she explained indifferently.

"_Ziva_," Gibbs growled with an expression on his face that clearly said if he didn't get any answers soon there would hell to pay.

"It was about Kate, boss," McGee explained when Ziva continued to hold her silence. She threw an accusing look in his direction.

The phrase 'if looks could kill' had never been more appropriate for a moment such as this. Ziva visibly cringed under the scorching blue-eyed gaze Gibbs pinned her with. McGee took a step back, more terrified of his boss than he had been in a long time.

"What about Kate?" he asked; voice as sharp as a razor blade. Ziva looked too afraid to answer. "McGee!" he snapped, turning his fierce gaze onto the junior agent. McGee nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced nervously at the woman standing next to him before reluctantly relaying the argument to Gibbs. Impossibly, Gibbs looked even angrier. Ziva hastily opened her mouth to defend herself but she was stopped when Gibbs raised a single finger. "I don't wanna hear it," he growled; eyes glinting dangerously. "We still have a case to investigate –" Ziva sagged in relief "– I'll deal with you later."

Ziva paled and glanced nervously at McGee. Gibbs turned and walked away. She waited until she thought Gibbs was out of earshot before rounding on McGee. "You just _had _to open your mouth!" she hissed angrily.

Frowning, McGee opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted when Gibbs called out over his shoulder.

"Oh and, Ziva –" the Israeli froze "– when we wrap up here, you can ride in the back of the truck."

Ziva's mouth fell open. "Y-you're not serious?" she said incredulously. "Gibbs?"

"I guess he means it," said McGee, when Gibbs didn't reply, patting Ziva sympathetically on the back.

* * *

"Oh my God, that's so cool!" Abby cried as she peered over Megan's shoulder to admire the little girl's artwork. She moved into Megan's field of vision and lightly tapped her on the head to get her attention. _'Is that me?'_ she signed.

Megan smiled shyly. _'Yes,'_ she signed back.

'_That is so cool. Look, you even drew in the little skulls on my shirt,'_ Abby signed, grinning broadly. _'Can I keep it when you're finished?'_

A Cheshire grin appeared on Megan's face. She nodded vigorously.

'_Thank you, I love it!' _Abby's smile turned slightly wistful. _'You know, I used to have a friend who was really good at art, her name was K-A-T-E.'_

'_What happened to her?'_

Abby hesitated a moment before answering. _'She's in heaven.'_

Megan pursed her lips, dropped her gaze and continued to color. Abby bit her lip. Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the subject of death. Megan was clearly still grieving over her grandmother. Abby was trying to figure out how to prize her super cool, leather platform boot out of her mouth when Megan suddenly looked up again.

'_My Grandma is in heaven,'_ she signed despondently.

'_I know,'_ Abby replied. _'I'm sorry. I know you must miss her . . . and I bet she misses you like crazy, but I'm sure she's happy where she is and watching over you.'_

Megan twirled a crayon between her hands, her expression pensive, and didn't respond. Abby was trying to figure out how to lighten the mood when one of her computers suddenly beeped.

"Ooh, I got a ding!" Abby cried excitedly. Then she froze. "Oh my God, I got a ding!"

That could only mean one thing; the paternity results were finally ready. Abby felt a sudden rush of excitement. She practically skipped over to her computer, squeezing her eyes shut before she could see the screen. She crossed her fingers on both hands and silently prayed. _Please be positive! Please be positive! Please be positive!_ She took a breath and opened her eyes.

**Authors note:**

_First of all I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and favourited my story. I was blown away by the number of hits I got after only one day. Secondly, I hope I didn't confuse you too much with the beginning of this chapter. Also I hope you're not too annoyed with me that we still don't know for sure if Megan is Tony's daughter or not, I was planning to reveal the results in this chapter but things got away from me, however, you'll be happy to know that all will be revealed in the next chapter – I promise. _

_BTW sorry for the delay, lets just put it down to some internet gremlins but not to worry I've had the exterminators in and all is well again. _

_Thanks again for all your support, please keep tuned for the next thrilling installment._

_Kind regards, All Hail Hufflepuff _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"– I'm not kidding! Yes, in the face. _I_ don't know, they were arguing about something and then – BAM! – Tony hit her. You should have seen it, I thought Ziva was going to karate chop him or …"

"Ahem!"

Palmer froze as a familiar voice cleared their throat. Slowly, he turned in his chair and found himself facing Dr. Mallard and Tony DiNozzo, both of whom looked very displeased to see him.

"Uh . . . A-Abby, I-I have to go," Jimmy stammered nervously, as Tony glowered at him.

"What have I told you about gossiping, Mr. Palmer?" Dr. Mallard asked sternly.

"I wasn't –" he stopped when the medical examiner raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Not to do it," he muttered meekly.

"Precisely."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, it won't happen again," he promised.

"Oh I'm sure it will, Mr. Palmer," Dr. Mallard sighed, removing his coat and hat and hanging them on the coat stand. "Don't you have some work to be getting on with?"

"Er . . . yes, sir," said Palmer, grateful for an excuse to leave and escape Tony's glare. "Oh . . . um, Tony . . . Abby wants to see you right away." Tony's only response was a curt nod. Palmer smiled anxiously and made a hasty escape from Autopsy.

Tony's glare followed Palmer all the way to the elevator. When he finally dropped his gaze he found Ducky staring at him. After returning from Shenandoah Park, Ducky had offered to take Tony out for coffee in an effort to cool him down. Tony wasn't entirely sure a dose of caffeine was what he needed to calm him down, but perhaps Ducky thought the walk to the coffee shop in the fresh air would have a more calming effect than the coffee itself – either way, Tony accepted the offer; eager to avoid the team for a little while longer. As he'd predicted, however, neither the walk nor the coffee were able to soothe Tony's temper. He silently seethed while Ducky rambled on about a disagreement he'd had with a friend while in medical school which had resulted with Ducky brawling with his friend in a local pub. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Ducky had brought up this _particular_ story, unfortunately for him, Tony had barely paid any attention. All Tony could focus on was Ziva and the harsh words she had spoken that had enraged him so. Ducky was still staring at him and Tony forced himself to concentrate on the present.

"What?" he snapped after a few minutes.

"Don't be too hard on Jimmy, the lad means well," said Ducky quietly.

"I don't appreciate people discussing my personal life behind my back, Ducky," Tony said curtly.

"No-one does, Anthony," Ducky pointed out. "And heaven knows _you_ would never do such a thing," he added wryly. Tony opened his mouth, hesitated, shut it again and frowned. Ducky smirked. "I'm sure Mr. Palmer – like all of us – is simply concerned for you."

Tony snorted skeptically. "Yeah, right," he muttered. "If you don't mind, Ducky, Abby's waiting for me." He turned and made a beeline for the door. He froze, however, when Ducky spoke again.

"I've known you for many years, Anthony, and in all that time I've never seen you react like that with anyone – especially not with a woman." Tony clenched his fists at his sides, keeping his back to the medical examiner. "Tell me, just what was it Ziva said that upset you so much?"

Tony was silent for a moment. "Thanks for the coffee, Ducky," he said briskly, and before the older man could respond he marched out of Autopsy.

Tony heaved a heavy sigh as the elevator doors closed behind him. He flicked the emergency switch, leaned back against the elevator wall, and tipped his head back so he was staring blankly at the ceiling. It was the first time he'd been alone since the argument with Ziva. A little solitude was precisely what Tony needed to put his turbulent emotions in order. As he stood there, breathing slowly – reviewing the angry words tossed between Ziva and himself – the full weight of his actions suddenly hit him. _Oh God!_ Horror replaced anger. _I slapped Ziva!_ He groaned and screwed his eyes shut. He'd never allowed himself to lose control like that before, never. _I'm so dead,_ he told himself despondently. _If Ziva doesn't kill me, Gibbs will._ He'd lose his job for sure. There was no way he would get away with a simple reprimand over something like this; raising a hand against a colleague was serious. Vance would use this as an excuse to finally get rid of Tony, especially since the fight and slap had been over something so trivial. _But it wasn't trivial,_ Tony thought angrily. _Ah, but Vance won't see it that way,_ whispered a voice of doubt._ Let's face it the guy has never liked you._ Besides screwing up his career he'd also ruined any chance of fixing the rift between Ziva and himself. So what if she'd been out of line with the things she had said, it was no excuse to hit her. That was the worst part, Tony had committed yet another of his father's sins; DiNozzo senior had no qualms slapping his wives in the face when he felt it necessary. It was just further proof that Tony wasn't suited to be Megan's father.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and released a shaky breath. He could worry about all that later; Abby was still waiting for him. He flicked the emergency switch again, sending the elevator on its way. If he hadn't been so distracted perhaps it would have occurred to Tony just why Abby wanted to see him in the first place. As it was, Tony stepped off the elevator, a preoccupied expression on his face, and entered the lab. He'd barely got through the door when all of a sudden he was tackled by a white and black blur.

"Oomph!" he grunted. "Abby?"

"Tony!" she cried delightfully. "Congratulations!"

"W-what?" asked Tony, bewildered, wincing as his back protested painfully at supporting Abby's weight.

"I got the results, Tony, you're a dad! You're Megan's dad!"

It was incredible the sheer terror a few simple words could inspire. Tony felt like he'd been doused in ice water. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He just stood there, holding Abby limply in his arms while she gleefully rambled on.

"Isn't it wonderful? I told you she was yours, didn't I? I told you! Oh, Tony, I'm so happy for you, for _both_ of you. You'll see, you'll make a great father and don't worry I'll teach you everything you need to know about sign language, you'll be an expert in no time!"

"Where . . . where's Megan?" he asked numbly.

"In the back," said Abby. She pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll go get her!"

"Wait!" cried Tony, grabbing her by the wrist. "Does . . . does she know that …?" he trailed off, his mouth going dry.

"Not yet, I thought we could tell her together," Abby explained, looking thrilled at the idea.

"G-good idea," said Tony, thinking furiously. "Go get her."

Abby grinned and enveloped him in another crushing embrace before dashing off to the back of the lab. She returned moments later, towing Megan behind her by the hand. Tony, however, was nowhere to be seen. Abby's smile faltered as she glanced about the lab.

"Tony?" she called. "Tony, where are you?" She bit her lip nervously. "Oh no." She glanced down when Megan tugged on her arm.

'_What's the surprise?'_ asked Megan.

"Oh, Megan," Abby murmured. "I think I've really screwed this up."

* * *

Gibbs stared at his computer screen, his brow furrowed, rubbing his chin with a finger as he contemplated a suitable punishment for Ziva. For the time being he had set her and McGee the task of finding more about their dead marine. Ziva kept glancing over at him nervously every few minutes. He'd promised he would deal with her 'later' and it was almost 'later'. It was just difficult to know how to deal with this particular situation. Gibbs had been furious when McGee had told him the things Ziva had said. She should know better than anyone what a touchy subject Kate's death was, not just for Tony but for the whole team. God dammit she'd been there for the aftermath; seen firsthand how it had affected them. How had she managed to say something so crass? It was the last thing Tony needed to hear at a moment like this, not when he already had so much on his plate.

Gibbs repressed a sigh. He'd never seen Tony do anything like that before. He was worried, more worried than he cared to admit. He really needed coffee. Problem was he didn't want to leave the building until he saw that Tony was okay. The Italian was yet to return to his desk and his continued absence was doing nothing to put the ex-marine at ease. _Damn Ziva,_ he silently cursed. He had a good mind to put a formal reprimand in her file. His desk phone suddenly rang and he jerked in alarm. Frowning irritably he picked it off the hook and held it to his ear.

"Gibbs," he grunted.

"_Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!"_ cried a loud, urgent voice. Gibbs jerked his head away from the earpiece as the voice almost deafened him. _"I-really-need-your-help!-I-screwed-up!-I-told-Tony-and-I-think-he-freaked-out-or-something-and-now-he's-gone-and-I-don't-know-what-to-do-and-I-really-really-need-your-help!"_

"Whoa! Whoa! Slow down, Abs," he ordered. "What's wrong?"

He heard Abby take a deep breath. _"I told Tony, Gibbs!"_ she exclaimed.

"Told Tony what?" he snapped impatiently.

"_I told him that he's Megan's dad!"_

Gibbs blanched. "Dammit, Abby, I told you to wait until I –!"

"_I know, I know! I'm sorry, Gibbs!"_ she cried miserably. _"I-was-just-so-excited-and-I-thought-Tony-would-be-too-and-I-couldn't-help-it-I-just-blurted-it-out-and-Tony-took-off-and-it's-all-my-fault!"_

"One word at a time, Abby!" barked Gibbs, who was having trouble understanding her rapid stream of words. "Where's Tony?"

"_That just it, Gibbs, I don't know! I went to get Megan so we could tell her together and when I came back Tony was gone!"_

"Dammit!" growled Gibbs. "Have you tried his cell?"

"_It's switched off!" _wailed Abby. _"What if he does something stupid? Oh God, I'm such an idiot!"_

"No you're not," countered Gibbs. "Don't you worry, I'll find him."

"_But what if –!"_

"I'll find him, Abs, I promise." He hung up the phone and rose swiftly to his feet.

"Problem, boss?" asked McGee, poised in his seat.

"I'm going out," said Gibbs curtly, rounding his desk. "I wanna know everything about sergeant Rossetto by the time I get back."

"On it, boss," McGee replied obediently.

Gibbs was already on his way to the elevator. He jabbed the button several times, growling under his breath, impatient for the doors to slide open. When they finally did open he bolted inside, startling a young female agent who was getting out on his floor. The elevator took its damn time delivering him to the ground floor – at least, it felt that way. He made a beeline for the security guards at the door.

"Hey, Henry, you seen Tony?" he asked.

"Yeah," answered Henry. "'Bout ten minutes ago, seemed like he was in a hurry. Why, is something wrong?"

"No. Thanks, Henry," said Gibbs gratefully, heading outside.

Tony's car was nowhere to be seen in the parking lot which just added to Gibbs' frustration. _Dammit, DiNozzo, where the hell are you?_ He hasted to his own car, climbed inside and slammed the door shut behind him a little harder than was absolutely necessary. He would start with Tony's apartment and work his way from there. He only hoped he found him soon; Abby was right, Tony wouldn't be thinking clearly, he was running scared and there was a chance he might end up doing something stupid. Gibbs turned the key in the ignition and started up the engine. With a high-pitched screech of burning rubber on tarmac he sped out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of Tony's place.

* * *

McGee glanced up as Abby clomped into the bullpen pulling Megan along with her by the hand. There was an aura of anxious energy about her as she settled Megan at Tony's desk. He watched in bemusement as the Goth began to pace up and down between his and Gibbs' desk, biting her nails and muttering under her breath. He looked sideways at Megan and noticed that she too was avidly watching Abby's nervous pacing. Ziva was diligently keeping her attention focused on her computer, no doubt trying to make up for earlier. He decided to take the plunge and ask what was wrong.

"Is everything alright, Abby?"

She stopped pacing and glared at him. "Look around, McGee!" she cried dramatically, waving her hands. "Does everything look alright?"

"Um . . . okay then, what's wrong?" he asked warily, still just as confused by her behavior.

"I messed up, McGee, – BIG TIME! _That's_ what's wrong," she exclaimed, clutching her hair in agitation. "Ugh! When will I learn to keep my big mouth shut?"

"How did you mess up?" he asked curiously.

Abby didn't answer; she was pacing again and mumbling quietly to herself. McGee rolled his eyes. He gave Megan another sideways look. Hesitantly, McGee got to his feet and slowly approached Tony's desk. It was the first time he'd allowed himself to really study Megan's face and he wanted to see if he could find any resemblance to DiNozzo. Her eyes certainly looked the same – they were the right shape and color at least – and her skin had a healthy golden glow like Tony's did, and the chin the chin looked the same.

"McGee!"

"Wah!" he yelled, jumping in fright. He spun around to find Abby glaring at him for a second time.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded crossly.

"Nothing," he said hastily. "I was just trying to see if –"

"If there's a family resemblance?" she snapped. "Well there's no need to bother!"

"Y-you got the results?" he asked, his eyebrows arched in surprise. Abby folded her arms and stared at him as if the answer was obvious. "Is she . . . is she …?"

"I think the words you're looking for are 'is she Tony's daughter?'" Abby cut across him. "Yes, McGee, she is!"

McGee's mouth fell open in shock. He heard Ziva's typing come to an abrupt halt. "Oh," he said. "Does . . . does Tony know?" He got the answer just by reading her expression. Suddenly he understood why Abby was so worked up; Tony must not have taken the news very well. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened, Tim? Tony took off!" she wailed. "If only I'd listened to Gibbs! I should have realized he was acting funny, especially after Palmer said Tony and Ziva got into a big fight," Abby paused, frowning. "Why did you get into a fight?" she asked, looking directly at Ziva.

Ziva glanced nervously at McGee. "Oh . . . it was nothing," she said offhandedly.

"But Jimmy said Tony hit you, he wouldn't have done that if it was 'nothing'," Abby persisted. She narrowed her eyes when Ziva glanced over at McGee again. "What is it you two aren't telling me?"

* * *

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Tony's car parked in his driveway. Berating himself for not checking here to begin with, Gibbs pulled in behind Tony. He'd spent the last hour at least driving around checking Tony's usual haunts with no success. He got out of the car and made his way toward the house.

"DiNozzo!" he called as he stepped through the front door. He listened for a moment. "Tony!"

Still no response. Growling under his breath, Gibbs headed for the basement – the most likely place in Gibbs' house where Tony would retreat to. Much to his immense relief, Gibbs found Tony sitting at the bottom of the basement stairs, Gibbs' bottle of bourbon in his hand.

"Hey, boss," Tony greeted, his tone light and casual – as if he hadn't just scared the shit out of Gibbs. "Hope you don't mind me dropping by like this."

Gibbs shook his head and descended the stairs, taking a seat on the step next to Tony. "I really should start locking that door of mine."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Anyone could just waltz in and help themselves to your booze." He took a swig from the bottle in his hand, grimacing at the taste. "Is Abby mad at me?"

"Not mad, Tony, but you did a good job of scaring her, running off like that."

Tony sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, boss. I panicked," he explained remorsefully. "I just . . . I just needed some time to think."

Gibbs nodded. He understood Tony's reasons for taking off like a frightened colt but it hadn't stopped him from worrying any less. Tony raised the bottle to his lips again but before he could take another drink Gibbs plucked it from his hand and set it on the step behind them. Tony gave him a wry grin.

"I hate that stuff anyway," said Tony, shrugging one shoulder and smiling slightly.

"It's an acquired taste," Gibbs explained.

"Uh huh . . . you know, nobody has to acquire a taste for chocolate or ice-cream, it just comes naturally."

Gibbs chuckled. He sobered, however, when Tony's smile faded and he began to clench and unclench his fists nervously. Gibbs took a breath and decided to tackle the lesser of DiNozzo's issues.

"McGee told me what Ziva said," he stated calmly.

Tony grimaced again. "I shouldn't have hit her, boss," he said contritely.

"Ziva should never have said those things," Gibbs countered. "She's got no right to lecture you about how you live your life, not when she's made some pretty bad decisions herself. And she sure as hell got no right to belittle Kate's death like she did or make assumptions about how you felt about it – and I'm gonna make sure she knows she can't get away with crap like that just as soon as we get back to the office."

"But I'm a big boy, boss, I know better than to lash out at people when I'm angry. I know the things she said were below the belt but hitting her – hitting a woman – that was worse."

"Hell, DiNozzo, she was trained as an assassin for Christ sake; the only thing that tap to the cheek hurt was her pride!" Gibbs said irritably.

"Boss –"

"No! I won't have you beating yourself up over this," Gibbs interrupted angrily. "If you'd really lost control of your temper you would have punched her . . . like you did with Kort."

"Wait! You_ know_ about that?" Tony asked in surprise. Gibbs gave Tony a look that was half amused half exasperated. "Right, of course you do, you're Gibbs; you know everything."

"Not everything, Tony," said Gibbs, his tone quiet and weary. "I gotta admit, I never saw Megan coming." Gibbs felt Tony stiffen at his side. "Told you before, there's no use running from this – like it or not you are Megan's father – you've got to accept that."

Tony dropped his head, holding it in his hands, clutching at his hair. "I'm scared," he admitted quietly, voice trembling slightly.

"I know that," Gibbs acknowledged.

"I . . . I don't think I can do this. I don't know how to take care of a child! I mean, I can't even handle kids when we're working a case, how do I handle my own? And by _myself!_ How the hell am I supposed to do this by myself? What if I do something wrong? I don't want to screw up her life! I don't want her to end up hating me."

He was talking so fast in his agitation that Tony almost sounded like Abby. Gibbs wished he knew what he could say that would put Tony at ease. He'd never been good with words, he had always been an 'actions-speak-louder-than-words' kind of guy. Somehow, though, Gibbs didn't think that kind of philosophy would help him here.

"Tony, anyone who says they knew exactly what they were doing when they first became a parent is lying. Do ya think I knew how to change a diaper, or make up a bottle, or even how to hold a baby when Kelly was born? I had to learn all that just like every new parent does. You'll learn what to do, just give it time."

Tony sprang abruptly to his feet, descending the rest of the way into the basement where he began to pace. Gibbs remained where he was and watched Tony's restless movements. After several minutes of mindless pacing the Italian came to a stop with his back to Gibbs and folded his arms across his chest.

"Any idiot can learn how to feed a kid," said Tony disparagingly. "Learn how to dress them, wash them and put them to bed . . . but it doesn't make you a parent, if there's one thing I know, it's that. I had a nanny when I was a kid, a cranky, grey-haired old lady named Mrs. Talbot. She fed me, dressed me, bathed me, and put me to bed most nights . . . and that was it; she never once played with me or taught me anything more than the basics. After my mother died Dad fired her, said I was too old for a nanny . . . so I had to learn to take care of myself." He turned slowly around and met Gibbs' gaze. "I never had a normal childhood, Gibbs, so how do you expect me to give one to Megan?"

"You love her, Tony," Gibbs stated simply. He pulled himself to his feet and leaned over the railing and fixed Tony with a piercing gaze. "You love her, you take care of her, you protect her as best you can and you teach her how to be a good person – that's the best any parent can hope for. And yeah, sometimes you'll screw up – every parent does – but that's the only way you'll learn, DiNozzo."

"You honestly think I can do this, boss?" Tony asked skeptically.

"Wouldn't be down here if I didn't, would I, DiNozzo?" Gibbs challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"No . . . no, I guess not," Tony conceded wryly.

"Well c'mon then, we've still got work to do," said Gibbs, motioning the younger man to follow him up the stairs with a jerk of his head. "And you still have to say hello to your daughter."

"You know," Tony began, jogging up the stairs. "I'm still scared this won't work out."

"I know," Gibbs replied, giving him one of his half-smiles.

* * *

Tony wasn't exactly sure what kind of reception he was expecting to get when he returned to headquarters but it certainly wasn't the one he got. He stepped off the elevator, his stomach churning with trepidation, and followed Gibbs towards the bullpen, however, before they could reach it they found director Vance blocking their path, looking extremely pissed off about something.

"Agent Gibbs, agent DiNozzo, nice of you to join us at last," he drawled, his every word simmering with suppressed anger.

"Problem, Leon?" said Gibbs, not sounding the least bit repentant.

"You could say that," Vance responded dryly, stepping aside so Gibbs and Tony could continue on their way.

Tony glanced suspiciously over his shoulder at Vance – certain that the 'problem' somehow related to Megan and therefore him. He grunted as he walked into the back of Gibbs, who had come to an abrupt halt. Frowning, Tony looked up to see what had caught the lead agent's attention and felt his jaw slacken. Ducky and Palmer were unusually present, tending to Abby and Ziva who sat at opposite ends of the bullpen glaring daggers at each other. Abby had a split lip, a black eye, and some nasty looking bruises forming along her jaw and cheekbone. Her pigtails were askew, as if somebody had grabbed them and tried to yank them out by the roots. There was also a nasty red mark around Abby's neck where her spiky dog collar usually resided. A moment later and Tony had spotted the dog collar lying broken on McGee's desk. Ziva, on the other hand, was sitting at her desk with one of Ducky's handkerchiefs pressed against her nose, which appeared to be bleeding profusely. Her hair looked like it had picked a fight with a blow-dryer and lost. Her green blouse was torn and splattered with blood, and from what little Tony could see of her face it looked like she had acquired some bruises of her own. As for McGee, he was at Gibbs' desk with an icepack pressed against his left eye. What on earth had the three of them been up to?

"What the HELL happened?" Gibbs barked, arms spread open; demanding an answer.

"That's what I'd like to know," said Vance. "I found these two –" he pointed first at Ziva and then Abby "– trying to rip each other's hair out like a pair of high school teenagers!"

"Looks like they did more than pull hair, Leon," Gibbs pointed out sarcastically.

As he had his back to him, Gibbs missed the angry glare Vance aimed at him. "It took four agents to pry them apart," he continued stiffly. "And now they're refusing to tell me what started this fight in the first place. Even agent McGee is being tightlipped on the subject."

Vance sent the MIT graduate an irritated look. McGee ducked his head guiltily but kept his mouth firmly shut.

"We'll see about that," Gibbs growled, aiming his steely gaze at McGee. "I'll take it from here, sir," he said to Vance in a dismissive manner.

"Oh, _will_ you now," said Vance heatedly. "Need I remind you, agent Gibbs, the seriousness of this situation – I can't have my people brawling with each other in the workplace or at all for that matter! These two are lucky I don't put them on suspension!"

"I'm aware of that, Director, but with all due respect, _sir_, I think I should be the one to handle this since I already have a pretty good idea what this is all about," said Gibbs stubbornly, giving Vance the full weight of his icy stare.

"And I don't suppose you're about to share this idea, are you?" Vance asked peevishly.

"Nope," said Gibbs curtly, a touch of smugness in his tone.

"I didn't think so," grumbled Vance. "Fine, but if I catch either of you behaving like that again it won't be a suspension I'll threaten you with." He looked ready to leave when his eyes fell upon Tony's desk and Megan who was seated at it, looking afraid and confused. "One other thing, to _whom _does this child belong to?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn. No-one answered. Vance looked positively livid at their lack of cooperation. "Let me rephrase the question. Does her presence here relate in any way to the case you are currently working, and if so, should child services be notified?"

Gibbs glanced quickly at Tony, rolled his eyes and addressed Vance again. "I'll explain it to ya later, Leon."

"Make sure you do, Gibbs," Vance returned icily. With that he turned on his heel and left.

Tony flashed Gibbs a grateful smile. The ex-marine tipped his head in acknowledgement before his face transformed into his 'scary-bastard' expression as he turned his attention back onto the girls.

"Come along, Jimmy, I think it's time we made ourselves scarce," Ducky said wisely, making a hasty exit out of the bullpen. Jimmy looked rather disappointed as he trundled after the ME, no doubt wishing he could stay and watch Gibbs deliver some punishment.

"All of ya, front and center!" Gibbs barked. McGee and Ziva were instantly on their feet, lining up before Gibbs like a pair of marines, Abby however, hesitated and remained at McGee's desk. "That means you too, Abby!"

Abby jumped slightly, clearly not used to being the subject of Gibbs' anger. She got gingerly to her feet, shuffled guiltily across the bullpen and lined up next to McGee. She shot Ziva an icy glare before standing to attention.

"Who threw the first punch?" Gibbs demanded.

"I did!" Abby answered immediately, pride evident in her tone.

"Is that so?" said Gibbs, invading Abby's personal space.

"Sir, yes, sir!" she yelled back.

The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched. He stepped over to Ziva. Her nose had stopped bleeding at last. It didn't look like it was broken, however, it was red, swollen and painful looking.

"Ziva," said Gibbs, his tone suspiciously soft. "Why did Abby throw the first punch?"

"Perhaps because she's completely insane and –!"

Gibbs cut her off simply by raising a single finger – it really was uncanny how he could do that.

"McGee?" he said, eyes still fixed on Ziva.

McGee sighed. "Abby tackled Ziva after she forced me to tell her –" another sigh "– to tell her the reason why Tony slapped Ziva earlier."

Gibbs nodded, as if McGee had just confirmed his suspicions. He shifted his gaze to the younger man and examined the rather impressive shiner McGee was sporting. "What happened to you, Tim?"

"Abby has pointy elbows, boss," McGee answered petulantly, giving Abby an aggrieved look out of his good eye.

Tony was beginning to lose interest in the whole affair. He was pretty sure Gibbs would start yelling soon and since he could see his boss do that any old day, Tony stopped listening and wandered over to Megan, crouching next to her chair and patting her reassuringly on the leg. Perhaps it was because he could no longer deny being her father, but looking at her now, it was almost as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes and suddenly Tony could see a distinct resemblance to himself in Megan's face. The most notable similarity was her eyes, there was no use pretending otherwise, they were definitely his. They were exactly the same shape and color. He suddenly found himself paranoid about whether or not his eyelashes were as long as Megan's. Despite that little detail, Tony was secretly glad he had passed on his eyes, they were the one physical trait he had inherited from his mother; the one thing that stopped him looking like a younger version of his father.

The Italian glanced up briefly when Gibbs began shouting. He wasn't taking in every word Gibbs said but Tony got the gist of it; basically the Bossman didn't appreciate returning to the office to find Vance ready to pounce because a member of his team and his favorite forensic scientist had been fighting like a pair of alley cats. Tony's attention was focused on Megan. When he'd left Gibbs' place Tony had hoped that he might feel differently when he laid eyes on the little girl again, unfortunately, all he felt was numb. It was still hard to believe this was actually happening. He supposed he was still in shock. Hopefully, it wouldn't last much longer, it wouldn't do to stay disconnected from his feelings for much longer. He had to know how he felt about Megan, how he felt about being a father. He watched her as she watched Gibbs and worried the flesh on her bottom lip. It occurred to him how confused she must be feeling right about now, after all, it was unlikely anyone had bothered to explain to her _why_ Ziva and Abby had been fighting. _She might be thinking it's got to do with her,_ Tony thought uneasily. He didn't want her to feel like that.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tony had risen to his full height and pulled Megan into his arms. With Gibbs' voice ringing behind him, Tony made his way to the break room, thinking a snack would do them both some good. After showing Megan how to get free candy bars from the vending machine, Tony meandered through the corridors while he and Megan munched on chocolate. He quickly discovered the error of this decision when Megan started to attract an awful lot of attention; they kept getting stopped by his coworkers – most of them being female – so they could coo and 'aww' over the little girl. Women who normally wouldn't give Tony the time of day were suddenly stopping him in the corridors so they could admire the 'gorgeous child' in his arms. And good lord the questions: "What's her name?" "Is she yours?" "Where's her mom?" After repeating the same answers a dozen times over, Tony felt like telling them to mind their own business. He could only imagine how annoying it must be for Megan to have her cheeks pinched and her nose tweaked by a bunch of complete strangers. After escaping the clutches of some chick from human resources, Tony hastened back to the safety of the bullpen just in time to see Gibbs forcing Abby and Ziva to shake hands and make up.

As Abby withdrew her hand from Ziva's, she looked to Gibbs for further instruction. He returned her look with a barely discernible nod of his head; conveying some silent message. Abby sighed and dropped her gaze to the floor then she straightened her shoulders – as if bracing herself – and faced Ziva.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper and . . . tackling you to the floor, and for almost breaking your nose," she began meekly, pointing hesitantly at Ziva's swollen nose. "Oh and I'm sorry about your shirt, I can buy you a new one if you want . . . oh, yeah, um . . . I'm sorry about . . . biting you too." This last part Abby mumbled with obvious embarrassment. Gibbs' stony expression became incredulous for half a second as this was uttered. "The point is I'm an adult and my actions were immature . . ." she hesitated again ". . . but there are just some things we don't talk about . . . and Kate . . . Kate is one of them . . . and what you said – even if you were angry and didn't really mean it – it was _way_ out of line –"

"Yes, I am beginning to . . . understand that," Ziva interrupted mildly, pointing at her face.

"Oh . . . well, good . . . see it doesn't happen again," said Abby, nodding smartly.

Ziva returned the nod, catching Gibbs' eye who was staring at her expectantly. "I would also like to apologize, Abby," she hastened to say. "The first punch was a reflex, as for the rest . . . I got carried away; I tend to do that sometimes in the heat of the moment. I'm sorry about your dog collar, I will happily replace it. And as for what I said –" she glanced quickly at Tony "– it was disrespectful and insensitive and I'm sorry that I upset you." Again Ziva glanced at Tony after she said this.

"Apology accepted, Ziva," said Abby, stepping forward to hug the Israeli.

Ziva looked both surprised and relieved. Gibbs nodded approvingly. When Abby released Ziva she clomped over to Tony, head hanging slightly. She gazed at the floor for several minutes before raising her eyes and addressing him.

"I'm sorry for blurting out the results, Tony, I didn't mean to make you . . . freak out. Do you forgive me?" she asked, staring at him pleadingly.

"Of course I forgive you, Abs. Oomph!" he finished with a grunt as Abby engulfed him and Megan in a crushing bear hug. He winced as his back gave an unpleasant throb. Even Megan made a sound of protest. "Abby . . . it's not . . . polite to . . . crush . . . DiNozzos!" he gasped.

She pulled back suddenly with a shocked expression on her face.

"What?" he asked, perplexed by the way she was looking at him.

"You just – you just said – awwww!"

Tony groaned as Abby resumed crushing him, wondering what the hell had set her off this time. He looked beseechingly at Gibbs but the bastard just smirked and walked away calling out to Ziva to follow him. She grimaced but fell into step behind him, following Gibbs to the elevator. Tony turned to McGee instead.

"Probie! Help a man out," he implored.

"Oh no, last time I got involved _this_ happened!" said McGee, pointing to his black eye.

"But, Probie –!"

"You're on your own, Tony," said McGee, retreating to his desk.

"Aw, _come on_, man!"

"Talk to the keyboard."

* * *

Ziva followed Gibbs into the elevator with a rising sense of dread. She'd been waiting for this to happen ever since they had returned from the crime scene, however, given what had just happened with Abby she had hoped she would be able to avoid this discussion but apparently she wasn't that lucky. Gibbs didn't even give her eye contact as he pushed the down button. Bracing herself, Ziva watched as the elevator doors slid closed. The car had barely moved before Gibbs had flicked the emergency switch bringing the elevator to a halt and plunging them in semi-darkness. _Here we go,_ she thought dismally, waiting for the lecture to begin. There was something distinctly unfair about this. Wasn't it enough that she had been slapped in the face by Tony, attacked by Abby, and forced to endure a lecture about brawling in the bullpen. Was it really necessary that she get yet another lecture off Gibbs? Her rebellious thoughts were immediately silenced as Gibbs turned to face her. Pushing her luck, Ziva cut across him before he had a chance to open his mouth.

"If this is about what I said about agent Todd then let me stop you, Gibbs, because I think I've already learned my lesson," she said, gingerly rubbing her nose.

"This isn't about Kate," Gibbs said calmly.

"It isn't?" Ziva asked in surprise.

"No. Like Abby said, it's not something we talk about, and that's as much out of respect for you as it is for Kate and the rest of the team," Gibbs explained.

"Then what is this about?" she asked.

"This is about you and Tony and the other things you said to him," Gibbs began sternly. Ziva placed her hands on her hips and looked away. "Now, forgive me if I missed the memo but I don't recall you and DiNozzo tying the knot, so why the hell have you been on his case about Megan?"

Ziva's face snapped back to Gibbs'. "I have not –!" she began indignantly, only to be cut off by a look from Gibbs.

"Tony is an adult, Ziva, and what he does outside this office is his own business –"

"He got a woman pregnant out of wedlock, Gibbs!" Ziva interrupted hotly. "And knowing Tony the girl was probably too young to handle the responsibility which would explain _why_ she has ended up abandoning her _own_ child!"

"Enough!" Gibbs barked, stepping into Ziva's personal space and taking full advantage of the height difference between them. "I don't give a damn if you have a problem with what he's done. DiNozzo doesn't answer to you, he's not your husband and he doesn't have to justify his actions to you or anyone else!"

Ziva bit the inside of her cheek to keep her from saying something she might regret. How could she explain to Gibbs that the reason she was acting so foolishly was because she felt oddly betrayed? She knew she had no right to feel that way but she did. She also had no right to feel jealous over this child but she couldn't help it. During her incarceration in Somalia, Ziva had been forced to face some home truths and come to terms with her conflicted feelings for her partner. She had expected to die in that desert, so imagine her surprise when she had come face to face with the very person she had been thinking about for so long. Since then they had been slowly rebuilding their friendship and possibly heading towards something more than friendship, but Megan's sudden appearance had thrown a hammer in the works.

"You and DiNozzo may not always see eye to eye, but one thing's for sure, Tony has _always_ had your back and I expect you to show him the same courtesy. Do I make myself clear, David?" Gibbs demanded, fixing her with a steely gaze.

"Crystal," muttered Ziva.

Gibbs nodded smartly and turned away. He flicked the emergency switch and set the elevator in motion again. When the doors opened again to reveal the squad-room, Gibbs was off like a shot without even a backwards glance, leaving Ziva to follow slowly in his wake – resigned to the fact she would have to be supportive of Tony despite her less than friendly feelings towards his new daughter.

* * *

"So does this mean you're going to keep her?" Abby asked eagerly, releasing Tony at last.

"Huh?" said Tony, relieved she was no longer hugging him.

"Megan of course!" said Abby impatiently. "You said DiNozzos, as in plural, as in you _and_ Megan, so does this mean you've decided to keep Megan and raise her on your own?"

Well if that wasn't putting someone on the spot Tony didn't know what was. As if she knew what was being discussed, Megan chose that precise moment to look him full in the face, caught in that powerful gaze, Tony felt the first stirrings of an emotion he couldn't quite identify.

"Am gonna try, Abs," he said simply.

Abby let out an excited squeal but refrained from throwing her arms around Tony like she wanted to, choosing to bounce on the balls of her feet instead.

"Good for you, Tony," said McGee admiringly.

"Hey, we should tell Megan now," Abby said excitedly.

"Tell Megan what?" Tony asked in confusion.

"That you're her dad, bonehead," she explained, punching him in the arm.

Tony felt a prickle of apprehension, slightly nervous about what Megan's reaction might be to this news. What if she was disappointed to learn _he_ was her father? What if she had been expecting a more capable person to be her father? Someone like Gibbs for instance. Tony looked up as the man in question stepped off the elevator and made his way purposely to the bullpen, Ziva trailing behind looking oddly resigned.

"Hey, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" cried Abby, bouncing on the spot. "We're about to tell Megan, you wanna do the honors or should I?"

Gibbs caught Tony's eye and flashed him a reassuring smile, making Tony wonder if the man had read his mind.

"You go ahead, Abs," he said, making his way over to his desk.

"_Yes!_" said Abby, turning back to Tony and Megan with a wide grin on her face.

Tony held his breath as Abby signed to Megan. If Abby was expecting a big reaction then she was disappointed by the calm way Megan absorbed this information. She chewed on her bottom lip for several minutes, not quite meeting anyone's eye, apparently thinking over what Abby had told her. After what felt like hours Megan turned in Tony's arms and buried her face against his shoulder. Tony smiled; all in all it was probably the best reaction he could have hoped for.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Tony drummed his fingers against his desktop and stared blankly at his computer screen. He was supposed to be writing up his report but it was like his brain had short-circuited or something because the words just refused to come; he'd been staring at the same sentence for ten minutes for heavens sake. Tony and the team were currently wrapping up their case since Ducky had determined that their dead marine had died from a brain aneurism. Apparently, sergeant Rossetto had received a concussion in a car crash twelve months ago and had been suffering from migraines ever since. The irony was he'd been scheduled for a CT scan next month, the very thing that would have revealed the ticking time bomb that had killed him. Since no crime had been committed there was nothing more for the team to investigate so all they had to do was write up their reports and hand them into Gibbs – that is, if Tony could ever get his report finished. He glanced over at Megan who was sharing his desk. She was bent over her sketchpad, a curtain of blonde hair obscuring her face, drawing something with her felt-tip pens. Curious, Tony leaned closer so he could see what it was she was drawing. He almost laughed out loud. The drawing depicted three figures having a fight. These figures were quite obviously Ziva, Abby and McGee. Abby had a rather deranged expression on her face, she was holding Ziva by the shirt with one hand, while her other arm was drawn back, ready to throw a punch. McGee stood behind her, an expression of pain on his face, as Abby's elbow connected with his eye. Ziva had been drawn with rather wild looking hair; blood flew from her nose as she yanked on one of Abby's pigtails, and simultaneously snapped off the dog collar from Abby's neck.

He shouldn't find it amusing – the fight between Abby and Ziva was a serious matter – but he honestly couldn't help himself. At the same time, Tony was blown away by the amount of detail she had put into the drawing; he doubted a child twice Megan's age could draw this well. She really was quite a remarkable child. _Hey, that report isn't gonna write itself you know,_ he silently chided himself. Repressing a sigh, Tony faced his computer screen again. Ten minutes went past with no progress on the report. What the hell was wrong with him? It had never been this hard to write up a simple report before! Tony felt his focus slipping. His gaze wandered over to Gibbs' desk, which sat empty. Tony glanced about the squad-room wondering where the lead agent had gotten to. _Hey! Focus!_ Right, right the report. This time he was able to write a whole sentence before inspiration dried up again. _Aw, come on!_ He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

"Problem, DiNozzo?"

Tony yelped in surprise and looked up to find Gibbs bearing down on him. "Uh, no, boss."

"You finish your report yet?" Gibbs asked.

"Err . . . I'm . . . I'm working on it, boss," Tony answered hesitantly.

"Don't be all day about it, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, heading for his desk.

Tony chuckled nervously. "Of course not, you know I'm a professional," he said jokingly. _Dammit,_ thought Tony, sagging in his seat. He turned back to his computer and grimaced.

It took a further two hours for Tony to complete his report by which time he had developed a killer headache. He chewed on some aspirin while he waited for his report to print. Once again, his eyes were drawn to Megan who had abandoned her sketchpad in favor for her DS-thingy. Tony plucked the sketchpad off his desk and flipped it back to the beginning; curious about what else Megan had drawn inside it. The first page was a crayon drawing of a house, with a green lawn and a smiley-faced sun in the top right corner. Tony smiled and turned the page. The next drawing was a colorful felt-tip pen depiction of three people, two male and one female. The female character had frizzy brown hair and was holding an orange cat; she was watching the other two figures who were floating in the air, sitting on what appeared to be broomsticks. One of them had black hair and glasses, and a weird red squiggle on his forehead, his companion on the other hand, had bright orange hair and long skinny arms and legs. Now Tony was no expert but even he knew this had something to do with Harry Potter. The page after that had a drawing of a purple dragon. The one after that was of Megan holding hands with a woman with white hair. Tony leaned closer, examining the white-haired woman. This had to be Megan's grandmother. Tony caught himself wondering if this drawing was anything like the real woman. He was also caught off guard by a sudden rush of melancholy; saddened by the fact that he would never meet the woman who had raised his child. God that sounded so weird, even in his head. He gave himself a mental shake and thumbed through the rest of Megan's drawings. He froze when he came across one particular drawing.

It was a picture of Megan, she was wearing a black dress and she was crying. Behind her a group of tiny figures drawn in black crayon followed a little black car that was clearly meant to be a hearse. Tony swallowed, a little overwhelmed by this representation of Megan's grief. He glanced over at Megan who was still enraptured with her computer game. Tony could only imagine what must be going through that little head of hers. He closed the sketchpad and set it back down.

"Hey, Tony!"

"Agh!" cried Tony, jumping in alarm. "Why does everyone keep doing that?"

"Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," said Abby, smiling apologetically. "I just came to bring you this." She handed him a folded piece of paper.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's Megan's old address." Tony stared at her in shock. "I did a little digging; looked up Megan's birth records. I found out her grandmother was Marguerite Wilson; she died two weeks ago from a heart attack. She was married to Albert Wilson, a Navy Captain who was killed in a car accident in 1994 along with their eldest daughter Amy. Their youngest daughter, Erika, is Megan's mother. She's a surgeon and she lives and works in Chicago."

"Erika," whispered Tony, the name stirring an old memory. "Oh crap."

"I take it you remember her then?" asked Abby curiously.

"Yeah, you could say that," Tony muttered, not really interested in discussing the matter.

"I've also put down Erika's address and phone number . . . you know, just incase you want to . . . contact her."

"Thanks, Abs," said Tony, tucking the paper into his jacket without even glancing at it. He got up and went to collect his report from the printer. He returned to find that Abby had managed to pry Megan away from her computer game. She was crouched before her having an animated conversation in sign language. Once again, Tony felt a pang of inexplicable jealously as he observed this little display. He tried to shake the feeling as he handed his report to Gibbs.

"Better late than never I suppose, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, not taking his eyes off his computer.

Tony rolled his eyes but didn't respond, instead he asked: "Mind if I take off now, boss?"

Gibbs looked at him, an eyebrow raised. With slow deliberation he glanced at his watch and studied it for a minute. "Sure, why not," he said at length, looking at Tony with a hint of a smirk lurking about his mouth. "That goes for all of yah, head home, get some rest."

"Thanks, boss," said Tony, as McGee and Ziva hastily packed up their things and powered down their computers before the ex-marine could change his mind. Tony turned back to Abby. "Hey, Abs, you know where I might get one of those kids' car-seat things?"

Abby turned to face him with a huge grin on her face. "You should try Baby-R-us; they have everything you could possibly need for babies and little kids. I know where there's a store, I can show you if you like?"

Tony thought it over for a moment. It probably would be a good idea having Abby along just to make sure he didn't end up buying the wrong thing. "Sure, Abs, I'd like that."

"Great!" said Abby happily. "I'll go get my stuff and meet you in the parking lot." With one final word to Megan Abby hurried off.

"See you later, Tony," said McGee, heading off for the elevator.

"Later, Probie," Tony called after him. His eyes fell upon Ziva. She gave him an awkward little nod before striding away, catching up with McGee in the elevator. Tony returned to his desk and powered down his own computer. "You talk to Vance yet?" he asked Gibbs.

"Uh huh," said Gibbs.

"You tell him about Megan?" He looked up in time to see Gibbs nod. "What did he have to say about that?" Gibbs snorted, giving Tony the impression that whatever Vance had said on the matter it was nothing he wanted to hear. "That bad, huh?" he said with a wry smile.

"Ah, it's got nothing to do with him anyway," said Gibbs nonchalantly. He turned his blue-eyed gaze on Tony. "I've put in for some leave for you."

"What? Why?" asked Tony, horrified. Gibbs gave Tony an irritated look – clearly wondering if Tony was being stupid on purpose. "Oh . . . right. For how long?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks! Oh, but, boss –!"

"No buts, DiNozzo, you need to spend some time getting to know your daughter. Two weeks, no less – no worming your way out of it. You got it?"

"Got it," Tony muttered bleakly, already dreading his enforced vacation. "Starting when?"

"Tomorrow," said Gibbs, his tone matter of fact. Tony opened his mouth to object but Gibbs silenced him with a look. "You've got plenty of vacation time you haven't taken this year, so if you decide you want more time with Megan you take it."

"Yes, boss," said Tony, who was highly doubtful he would want to take more time off – the only time he enjoyed his vacations was when he arranged to meet up with his frat brothers. Being stuck alone in his apartment, struggling to communicate with Megan, for two weeks wasn't exactly Tony's idea of fun. "You gonna drop by later?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

"As long as you don't have any objections," Gibbs answered mildly.

Tony smirked, amused in spite of himself. It felt good knowing Gibbs had his back. "Course not, boss."

He packed up Megan's belongings and helped her on with her rucksack, before grabbing his own pack and heading for the elevator. Abby was waiting for him in the parking lot just as she had promised. After securing Megan in the back seat, Tony pulled out of his parking space and followed Abby's car out of the Navy Yard.

The trip to the Baby-R-us store proved to be more horrifying than Tony could have possibly imagined. Lined wall to wall was everything a person could possibly want or need for a baby; cradles; strollers; car seats; highchairs; cots; Moses baskets; baby monitors; changing tables; playpens; sterilizers; bottles; pacifiers; baby bowls; plastic baby baths; toys; clothes – the list went on and on! To Tony it was like a giant, flashing reminder of all the time he had missed out of Megan's life. Abby, of course, was in her element. She dragged them all around the store – deliberately ignoring the car seat aisle – so she could admire the latest baby essentials. Tony soon found himself thoroughly bored with the whole thing, and judging by the expression on Megan's face, she was too. Tony may not know much about kids, but he did know that the majority of items on display were below Megan's age range. It was for her sake that Tony decided to put an end to Abby's impromptu tour.

"Abby! Can we please go look at the car seats now?" he asked wearily, a hint of desperation in his tone. "I'm tired and I'm hungry and I just wanna go home."

"Sure, Tony, you should've said something sooner," Abby replied brightly. Tony repressed the urge to growl irritably. The Goth looped her arm through Tony's and led them through the store to where the car seats were lined up on shelves.

Tony glanced up and down the aisle; feeling distinctly overwhelmed by the number of different car seats there was to choose from. "Which one?" he asked, nervously.

"Hmm . . . good question," said Abby, examining one of the boxes. "Hang on, I'll be right back." She returned a few minutes later, towing a bemused looking store clerk behind her. "We want a car seat but we don't know which one to pick," she explained to the clerk.

"Well that depends on the age of the child, I take it it's for this little one?" he asked, smiling down at Megan who ducked her head and shimmied behind Tony's leg.

"Yeah, she's almost four," said Abby. The clerk nodded and began pursuing the boxes on the shelves, searching for a suitable car seat.

"This should do," he said after several minutes, patting a box halfway down the aisle. "It's a convertible car seat which means you can remove the back when she's a little bigger and use it as a booster seat."

Tony wasn't quite sure what that meant but he nodded anyway. "How much?" he asked.

The clerk checked the box. "Sixty dollars, sir," he answered.

"I'll take it," said Tony, who was desperate to be gone from this place. Megan seemed to agree with him since she was leaning heavily against his leg.

"Would it be possible for someone to help us install it?" Abby asked politely. Tony held back a groan. Abby, however, must have somehow sensed his impatience because she shot him a look that seemed to say _'well, you want it installed correctly, don't you?'_

"Certainly we can do that for you," replied the clerk cheerfully.

"Thank you," Abby returned.

It was with a heavy sigh of relief that Tony pulled away from the sidewalk outside the baby store. Megan was in the back, snugly strapped inside her brand new car seat. It was bright pink and decorated with purple butterflies. Tony was quite certain he'd never had anything quite like it in his car before. Tony glanced at his rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of Megan yawning. Her eyes were heavy and she looked about as tired as he felt. Maybe a vacation wasn't such a bad idea after all. He felt ridiculously happy when he pulled into the parking lot outside his apartment; it had been a long and tiresome day and for a change Tony was glad to be home.

Megan didn't seem to be particularly inclined to walking the rest of the way to his apartment, so Tony had no choice but to pull her into his arms and carry her. He slung both Megan's and his own pack over his shoulder and made his way wearily across the parking lot. Not surprisingly, the elevator was still out of order, forcing Tony to take the stairs – _again_ – during which time his lungs decided to remind him that he had once tangoed with the Black Death, meaning he was panting by the time he reached his front door. He set Megan and the rucksacks on the floor – resisting the urge to lie flat on his back and just fall asleep. He went to bathroom instead to grab a quick shower. After he was finished Tony changed into a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt and padded barefoot into the living room to find Megan enthralled with the television. He flopped onto the couch with a content sigh, and stretched out, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. Dinner could wait for another few minutes, right now Tony just wanted to relax. His eyes drifted shut and within a few moments he was fast asleep.

* * *

Gibbs turned the key in the door and let himself into Tony's apartment. He had ducked home long enough to change out of his work clothes before heading out again for Tony's place. Although he'd never admit to it, Gibbs was still a little wary about leaving Tony on his own for too long. Tony was in a vulnerable place right now, he could quite easily change his mind about Megan. Gibbs had already screwed up once by keeping his distance, he wasn't about to let that happen again. Tony may not realize it now but Gibbs knew that the younger man needed Megan in his life. Gibbs would be damned if he let DiNozzo walk away from an opportunity like this. He closed the door behind him and glanced about the apparently deserted living room. He could hear the television running but there wasn't any sign of either Tony or Megan. Frowning, Gibbs wandered further into the room and then froze, a large grin bursting across his face, as his gaze fell upon the occupants of the couch. He crept closer, leaning his forearms on the back of the couch so he could take in the sight of his senior field agent stretched out and sleeping soundly with Megan draped across his chest like a living blanket.

Gibbs doubted that Tony would have allowed this to happen consciously, most likely he had fallen asleep on the couch first and then Megan had decided to join him for a nap. She had wedged herself between Tony's body and the back of the couch and was lying half on top of him, her head pillowed against his shoulder and her arm and one stocking-clad foot draped across Tony's torso. At some point Tony's arms had instinctively wrapped around Megan's small frame, cradling her protectively against his chest. _If only I had a camera,_ Gibbs thought fondly, _Abby would eat this up._ He chuckled softly as an idea struck him and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open and snapping a picture of the tranquil scene before him. The irony was Tony had been the one to show him how to use the camera on his phone in the first place. He slipped his cell back into his pocket, noticing the blanket folded next to where his arms had been resting. He shook it open and carefully laid it over Megan and Tony, resisting the urge to tuck them in. With a satisfied nod, Gibbs left them in peace and wandered over to one of the many bookshelves that lined Tony's living room, the difference being this one actually contained books instead of DVDs.

It would probably come as a surprise to most people who knew Tony to discover that the man actually read something other than skin magazines. The fact that Tony continuingly downplayed his intelligence was one enigma about the man that Gibbs still hadn't quite figured out. He couldn't decide if it had something to do with Tony's childhood or his time as a cop, either way it bugged the ex-marine, though he wasn't quite sure why. As the team supervisor Gibbs knew what grades and qualifications all his people had and although Tony's grades weren't quite up to say McGee's standards, they were nothing to be ashamed of either. Gibbs browsed the titles on the shelves, searching for something to keep him occupied while he waited – he had no intentions of leaving just yet simply because his host was fast asleep. Gibbs was impressed by the way Tony had organized his bookshelf. The first two shelves were packed full with biographies on old Hollywood actors, the shelf below them contained a set of identical volumes with titles such as Frankenstein, Huckleberry Finn, Treasure Island, and – Gibbs smirked – Moby Dick. Gibbs suspected that Tony had owned this particular set of books since he was a child. Housed on the shelf below that were a number of crime novels including – Gibbs rolled his eyes – the one written by McGee. More surprisingly was the shelf containing various history books, most of them about the Roman Empire, and the last shelf which was dedicated to National Geographic magazines. Gibbs opted for one of the crime novels and settled himself in the armchair that sat to the right of Tony's couch.

Gibbs lost track of time as he submersed himself in the compelling storyline of his novel – turns out, Tony had better taste in books than he did in movies. He was almost halfway through it when he heard Tony beginning to stir. He lifted his eyes from the page he was reading and winced, his head giving an unpleasant throb – he really shouldn't read without his glasses – still, it would be well worth a headache to see Tony's reaction when he discovered Megan. Tony stretched like a sleepy cat; groaning softly and muttering under his breath. He pushed a hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles, and slowly blinked up at the ceiling. Gibbs bit back a laugh the moment Tony finally registered the weight on top of him. He went very still and frowned at the ceiling. Slowly, slowly, the young Italian angled his gaze toward his chest. Gibbs' grin returned as Tony's face softened before his eyes. Something like an affectionate smile curled Tony's mouth and there was a light in his eyes that Gibbs had never seen before. And to think DiNozzo was worried about being a lousy father – as far as Gibbs was concerned, no man who looked at his child like that could possibly turn out to be a bad father. Tony remained that way for a few minutes until quite suddenly his body tensed. Hazel eyes locked with blue. Gibbs gave Tony an insolent wave and then let out a bark of laughter; Tony looked like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Tony asked. His voice was uneven from the lingering traces of sleep.

Gibbs reined in his mirth and checked his watch. "Oh I don't know, an hour, hour and a half, maybe more," he said, amusement still evident in his tone.

"This wasn't my – she must have – I didn't have – I was alone when I fell asleep – I mean, I wasn't _alone,_ alone – she was in the room with me but – will you STOP _laughing!_" Tony cried indignantly, as Gibbs fell back against the armchair and roared with laughter. Tony couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had never seen Gibbs laugh like he was laughing right now. Tony was torn between being proud he had made Gibbs so happy, and annoyed that it was yet again at his own expense. "Are you quite finished?" he asked at length, a slightly petulant tone coloring his voice.

Gibbs wiped his eyes and chuckled lightly. "Yep."

"Good," said Tony, glancing back down at Megan. "Err, how do I get up?" he asked.

"Just wait," said Gibbs.

"Huh?" said Tony, not at all satisfied with Gibbs' answer. The ex-marine just gave him an annoyingly smug look and dropped his gaze to the book in his hands.

As if on cue, Megan suddenly stirred against Tony who – without even realizing it – held his breath. She made a soft grumbling sound and lifted her head, squinting around the room with one eye. Tony's lips quirked up in a smile; Megan really was quite adorable waking up. Megan's head flopped back onto Tony's chest with a little groan; apparently she wasn't very impressed by having her nap disturbed so soon.

"How did she do that?" Tony asked in bewilderment.

"She felt your breathing change," Gibbs explained, lifting his gaze briefly to focus on Tony.

"She picked up on something as little as that?" Tony said incredulously.

Gibbs shot Tony a look that clearly questioned his intelligence. "She's deaf, DiNozzo, she has to be able to pick up on little things like that."

Tony flushed. "Oh, of course," he muttered. He slowly eased himself into a sitting position, cradling Megan against him with his right arm. She grumbled again, rubbing her face against the fabric of Tony's t-shirt. "Ups-a-daisy," he said, getting to his feet and lifting Megan with him, letting the blanket which had covered them fall to the floor. "Here, why don't you go to Grandpa while I make us some dinner," Tony said jokingly, plunking Megan down on Gibbs' lap. "Spaghetti okay with you, boss?"

"Sounds good to me, and less of the Grandpa talk, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly, despite the fact his stomach had done a back-flip at the word. He turned his attention to Megan who was gazing at him blearily.

'_Sleep well?' _he signed.

'_Yes,'_ Megan signed back, yawning widely. _'I'm hungry.'_

Gibbs smirked and tousled her hair. _'Your Daddy's making dinner.'_

Megan gave him a funny look, and peered around his shoulder to watch Tony in the kitchen. After a few minutes she turned back to Gibbs, an odd expression on her face. _'Is he going to send me away?'_ Gibbs blinked. Megan didn't look afraid or sad; in fact her expression was oddly resigned, as if she was somehow expecting to be passed from pillar to post from here on in. It made Gibbs' heart break.

'_No, sweetheart, Daddy is not going to send you away.'_

Megan looked doubtful. _'E-R-I-K-A did,'_ she pointed out, her shoulders drooping slightly.

'_Your Daddy's not like her,'_ Gibbs assured Megan. _'I promise.'_ He tapped her lightly under the chin, coaxing a reluctant smile out of her. _You better not make a liar out of me, DiNozzo, _Gibbs silently prayed.

Contrary to popular belief Tony did actually know how to cook, he just preferred the easier option of ordering takeout since he rarely had the time or energy to make a home cooked meal. And all false bravado aside, Tony actually was a pretty good cook. Granted, the majority of meals he knew how to make were Italian – thanks to his dear old Nonna who had insisted that all her children and grandchildren learn the skills to pass on the old family recipes – but it was better than nothing. By the time his spaghetti bolognaise was ready Megan was attempting to show Gibbs how to play her DS-thing. She seemed to be having about as much success as McGee when he was trying to explain one of his complicated computer algorithms.

"Grub's up," he called, balancing two plates on one arm like a waiter, whilst carrying a third with his other hand, setting them all on the coffee table.

Gibbs hauled himself out of the armchair, taking Megan with him, and set her down next to the coffee table. She dropped to her knees and pulled one of the plates towards her, instantly starting to pick at the spaghetti with her fork. Gibbs grabbed a plate of his own and sat next to Tony on the couch. There was silence for several minutes as the three of them got stuck into their meal. Gibbs watched Tony surreptitiously out the corner of his eye. He had been intending to talk something over with Tony but he was having trouble finding the right moment to bring it up. If only he was better at this kind of thing. It didn't help matters that the topic he wanted to discuss would no doubt be a touchy subject with Tony. _Aw hell, Jethro, just get on with it, _his mind chided. Steeling himself, Gibbs opened his mouth to begin.

"That's not how you eat spaghetti, you mucky pup," Tony said suddenly, his tone half amused, half exasperated.

Gibbs blinked and shut his mouth. He followed Tony's gaze and felt his lips quirk into a small smile. Megan had abandoned her fork in favor for eating with her hands. She had bolognaise sauce all around her mouth, down her chin, all over her hands, and down the front of her shirt. Tony set his plate down and went to the kitchen, returning with a roll of kitchen towels. He tore off a strip and set about cleaning Megan's hands and face. Gibbs held back a laugh as Megan squirmed under Tony's ministrations.

"_This_ is how you eat spaghetti," Tony explained, picking up Megan's fork. "You twist it, see? That way it doesn't make a mess." He held up the fork for Megan's inspection. "Open up," he instructed, opening his own mouth to demonstrate. Gibbs was pleased when Megan understood the command, dropping her jaw obediently and allowing Tony to feed her. "Alright, now you try," said Tony, taking Megan's hand in his, helping her to twist the spaghetti around her fork. "Good girl," he cried, as Megan popped the fork into her mouth. "Gimme five!"

Gibbs held his breath as Tony held up his hand expectantly. Megan tipped her head to one side and studied Tony for several minutes, a slightly puzzled frown on her face. Gibbs saw her eyes shift ever so slightly, locking with his own, her gaze clearly demanding a translation. Gibbs silently demonstrated what she needed to do. Megan smiled and slapped her palm against Tony's hand with all her might. Tony let out a triumphant laugh.

"I thought you were gonna leave me hanging," Tony said cheerfully. Gibbs smiled as he heard the surprised and slightly smug undertones in Tony's voice.

Tony tousled Megan's hair and returned to his place on the couch, pulling his plate back onto his lap. Gibbs allowed a few more minutes of silence to pass before trying again to start that conversation.

"I heard Abby say she'd found Megan's mother ..." Gibbs felt Tony stiffen beside him. "I saw your face; saw the recognition in your eyes. You remembered her, and yet you've told me yourself that you have a hard time remembering all the women with whom you have 'short-lived relationships' with. So what makes this woman different?" Gibbs stared at Tony who had a closed expression on his face. "Who was she, Tony?" Gibbs asked. "What happened between you?"

Tony chewed thoughtfully on his spaghetti, keeping his eyes trained on the plate. He set his fork down with a clatter and rubbed the back of his neck, in what Gibbs recognized as a nervous gesture. "I met her in a bar, a few weeks after . . . after Kate's funeral," Tony began quietly, his tone hollow and emotionless. "I was . . . drowning my sorrows, I suppose, when this gorgeous girl sits down beside me and tells me that I looked as miserable as she felt. I bought her a drink and we started talking. She was all broke up about her ex-boyfriend; seems she'd caught him cheating on her. I bought us both a few more drinks and one thing led to another and . . . badda-bing badda-boom."

Tony sighed and dumped his plate on the coffee table. "I thought it was just a one-night-stand but a couple days later she calls me up and asks me if I wanna hook up again. I admit I was wary at first, I knew I wasn't in the right headspace to start dating seriously, but then she made me an offer I couldn't refuse. She told me she wasn't looking for a serious relationship, that she just wanted someone to have a little fun with; someone to help her forget her problems for a little while. I jumped at the chance – and not just because of the obvious reasons – but . . . because that's what I needed too, someone who could help me forget, help take away the pain . . . even if it was just for a few hours. It was stupid I know but . . . there you have it."

Tony dropped his head into his hands and massaged his temples.

"It's not stupid, Tony," Gibbs said gruffly. "You're only human." Tony glanced up at him from behind his hands. "We all deal with grief in different ways."

Tony gave him a wry smile. "Some better than others."

Gibbs smirked. "Well I wouldn't know much about that," he admitted ruefully. He cleared his throat. "So , how long did this . . . arrangement, go on for?"

"I don't know," Tony said, rubbing his neck again. "A few months, I guess. Sometimes I'd call her but mostly she called me. We'd go out either to a bar or a club or whatever took our fancy, we would have too much to drink and at the end of the night fall into bed together. After a while I stopped getting the calls. At the time I just figured she had met someone else and got on with her life . . . but now I realize it was more than that."

Gibbs and Tony both shifted their gaze toward Megan, who was happily twisting spaghetti round and round her fork, completely oblivious to the attention she was currently receiving or indeed the conversation the two men were having.

"It's not your fault you know," Gibbs said, "that she didn't tell you she was pregnant."

"I'm not so sure," Tony disagreed. "It's not like many women look at me and think: 'hey there's a guy I can settle down with'."

Gibbs wanted to protest but how could he when he knew Tony actively avoided committed relationships – even more so now since that whole fiasco with Jeanne Benoit. "That's no excuse," he said instead. "You had every right to know."

"Yeah well, what's done is done," Tony replied nonchalantly.

"You gonna use that number Abby gave you?" Gibbs asked curiously.

"And call her?" Tony asked, releasing a humorless little laugh. "I've thought about it . . . a lot . . . but no, I'm not gonna call her. It's pretty clear she doesn't want anything to do with her daughter . . . and Megan's been hurt enough, I don't wanna put her through that again."

Gibbs hid a smile; it was rare for him to hear Tony say something so mature. It made him proud to know Tony was taking responsibility for his actions.

"You done, boss?" Tony asked. It took a moment for Gibbs to realize Tony was referring to his almost empty plate.

"Yeah," he answered, handing the plate over.

Tony piled up all their plates and made his way to the kitchen, dumping the dishes in the sink; they could keep 'til later. He stood there for several minutes, not quite sure what to do with himself. He hadn't planned on spilling his guts about what had happened between him and Megan's mother; it figured Gibbs would be the one to worm it out of him. Now he was feeling slightly self-conscious, which was stupid because he knew Gibbs wouldn't judge him on this, but he couldn't help it.

"Who wants ice-cream?" he called, in an attempt to distract himself.

"I'd rather have a beer," Gibbs replied dryly.

"Gotcha, two ice-creams and a beer coming up."

A few minutes later he was handing a beer to Gibbs and a bowl of ice-cream to Megan. Tony made himself comfortable on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table, and flicking through the TV stations looking for something to watch. He settled on an old James Cagney movie and started scooping ice-cream into his mouth. A companionable silence fell over them. Once Megan had finished eating she crawled onto Gibbs' lap and settled against his chest to watch the rest of the movie. Gibbs smiled and wrapped his free arm around her, holding Megan snug against him. Tony pretended not to notice, once again feeling a stab of jealously. _Get a grip, Tony, _his mind berated him. _Who gets jealous over something like this? It's ridiculous! _He gave himself a mental shake and tried to focus on the movie.

"Hey, boss," Tony said after a while, "can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Gibbs pointed out sarcastically. Tony shot him an exasperated look. "Go ahead."

"Where'd you learn sign language?" Tony had pondered that very question ever since the first time he'd seen Gibbs and Abby signing to each other. He'd asked before but Gibbs had ignored him. This time Tony hoped he might actually get a straight answer.

"Bobby Matthews."

"Huh?"

"My best friend when I was a kid in Stillwater, he taught me," Gibbs explained.

"He was deaf?" Tony asked, astounded Gibbs had actually answered him.

Gibbs glanced sideways at Tony, an exasperated expression on his face. "Yeah, DiNozzo, he was deaf," he said, his tone suggesting that he was stating the obvious – which Tony supposed he was.

"Actually kind of makes a lot of sense, boss, I mean it's not as if – well, you're not exactly – I mean you're – you know – you're not really . . . a big fan of . . . w-words …" Tony trailed off nervously, taking note of the dangerous glint in Gibbs' eyes; always an indicator that Tony was just a few steps away from seriously pissing off his boss. "So . . . uh, were you guys close?" he asked hastily.

Gibbs gave him a small nod of approval before allowing a somewhat wistful smile to cross his lips. "Oh yeah, we were close. More like brothers than best friends, we went everywhere together. We even built a fort in the woods behind my Dad's house, spent near enough every day there."

Gibbs was no longer looking at Tony, his unfocused gaze lingered somewhere over Tony's left shoulder as his mind replayed scenes from his childhood. Tony, who could hardly dare believe his ears, was staring at the man in front of him in sheer fascination. He'd only heard Gibbs mention his childhood a handful of times, and even then the details had been extremely vague. Tony was flabbergasted that Gibbs was sharing these things with him now. Though maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. Perhaps Gibbs felt one good turn deserved another. Tony had opened up about Erika, so maybe that was why Gibbs was sharing something from _his_ past.

"You and Bobby still keep in touch?" he asked curiously.

"Nah," replied Gibbs, snapping back to the present. "He and his family moved when I was twelve."

"That sucks, boss," Tony said sympathetically.

Gibbs nodded. "Locked myself in my room for a week," he said, a wry smirk on his lips. "My mother got so worried she called the doctor out to look me over." Gibbs frowned slightly, his eyes going unfocused again. "Never did play in that fort again, after that," he muttered quietly.

Tony felt badly for Gibbs, even though this had all taken place long before he was even born. "You ever think about tracking him down, boss?"

Gibbs frowned at him. "No, what would be the point? We knew each other a lifetime ago, DiNozzo, we were kids. A lot has changed since then. I've changed. What the hell would we even have in common these days?"

Tony shrugged. "Can't see what harm it would do to look him up, see how he's getting on in his life."

Gibbs' expression was skeptical. A loud yawn made them both jump. They turned their attention back onto Megan who was slowly nodding off in Gibbs' arms. The ex-marine chuckled.

"C'mon, DiNozzo," he said, getting carefully to his feet, cradling Megan against his chest. He set his empty beer bottle on the coffee table. "I'm gonna show you how to put a kid to bed."

Tony rolled his eyes. Like it was such a hard thing to do. Still, wouldn't hurt to pick up a few pointers. "Right behind yah, boss."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Hey, hope you liked this chapter, I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed chapters 4 and 5. I'm blown away by the response this story is getting, I never expected anyone to like it this much. Chapter 7 should be up soon hopefully, thanks again_

_kind regards, All Hail Hufflepuff_

_P.S. I would like to say thank you to petuniatc who pointed that Megan's grandfather would be a Captain in the Navy not a Colonel - oopsy - I'll try and avoid such mistakes like that in future._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Ow! Dammit!" Tony cursed, as he stubbed his toe on the lamp in the hallway. It really was high time he moved this thing somewhere else so his toes would be safe. Muttering angrily under his breath, Tony hobbled into the living room. He fumbled for a few minutes to find the light switch and then hissed as the sudden brightness stung his eyes. He blinked several times before making his way to the kitchen. Tony took a glass down from one of the cupboards, ran it under the cold tap and took a sip. He sighed as the cool water slipped down his dry throat. Taking two more sips, Tony set the almost empty glass on the counter and braced his hands against the sink, hanging his head wearily. He screwed his eyes tightly shut in a vain attempt to block out the images from his latest nightmare. He'd dreamed about an argument he had witnessed when he was eleven years old between his drunken father and his second stepmother. It wasn't the first argument he had ever witnessed whilst growing up but it had stuck in his memory because of the way it had ended; with his father backhanding his stepmother so hard she fell backwards and split her head against a table. His dream had played out exactly as he remembered the incident; the only difference was when the argument reached its climax Tony had suddenly found himself standing in his father's place, facing a furious Ziva. He had raised his arm without thinking and watched numbly as his hand connected with Ziva's cheek. The force of the smack sent Ziva hurtling backwards. Her body had twisted and, as if in slow motion, she began to fall. With a sickening _CRACK_ Ziva's head connected with the table behind her and like a stone she dropped to the ground. Unlike Tony's stepmother, Ziva did not get back up.

It was at that point that Tony had woken up with a jolt. Now his mind just kept playing it back again and again; making his gut twist with guilt and shame. He tried telling himself that it wasn't real but . . . that wasn't entirely true. He _had_ hit Ziva. Maybe not quite like his dream, or even as hard as that but he had still raised his hand against her. For just a second he had lost control of his temper and allowed himself to lash out at someone he cared about. And that terrified him more than he cared to think about. The last thing he wanted was to turn into his father. With a frustrated growl Tony threw up his hands and clutched at his hair. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ How could he have let himself do that? Especially after everything Ziva had been through in Somalia. _I'm a stupid, worthless idiot who deserves to be shot!_ He turned his back to the sink and slid to the floor, dropping his head into his hands.

Tony wasn't sure how long he sat there like that, it could have been an hour or a few minutes, all he knew was the thing that had him snapping out of it was the sound of little bare feet slapping against the polished wood flooring. He glanced up just as Megan wandered into the kitchen. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw him, an odd little frown on her face.

"Hey," he said; his voice still slightly gravelly from sleep. "I wake yah up?"

When she just stood there with the same expression on her face, Tony leaned forward, peering at her closely. There was something . . . _different_ about her . . . something not quite right. Tony ran his eyes over her face trying to figure out what was up. It was then that he realized that Megan wasn't actually looking at him; she was in fact staring at some point in the middle of the floor. He also noticed that there was a somewhat glazed expression in Megan's eyes, almost as if she were …

"Shit!" he swore loudly. _She's sleepwalking! _A rush of cold panic rose up in his chest like a fierce, angry tide, washing his mind blank and making his extremities to go numb. _What do I do? What do I DO?_

Megan took a few hesitant steps forward and dropped to one knee, stretching out her hand and placing it on some invisible object a few inches off the floor. Tony knew it was very dangerous to wake a person who was sleepwalking. Which was all good and well, the trouble was he couldn't for the life of him remember what he _should_ do in a situation like this. The knowledge seemed to have taken complete leave of his head. Megan was moving her hand, apparently trying to shake the invisible object on the floor. All Tony could do was sit there, frozen to the spot, and watch. He saw Megan's lip wobble and suddenly she was on her feet and out of the kitchen in a flash. Instinct overcame panic and Tony forced himself to move. He hauled himself to his feet and went after the little girl. He found her at the front door, trying desperately to reach the doorknob. Tony racked his brains, trying to remember the appropriate course of action to deal with sleepwalkers. And then it suddenly clicked and he swore again in frustration. The best thing to do when someone was sleepwalking was to talk softly to them, reassure them that everything was all right, and then calmly lead them back to bed. But how the hell did that work when the person was deaf? And it's not as if Megan could actually see him either, at the moment she wasn't seeing what was actually in front of her she was seeing what was in her dream. Tony had no way of reaching her! What the hell was he supposed to do?

Megan started whimpering under her breath, banging on the wood of the door in frustration because she couldn't get out. She ran back to the kitchen, Tony close on her heels. She crouched on the kitchen floor again, shaking the invisible object once more, making little sounds of distress. A horrible suspicion suddenly occurred to Tony. He had to stop this; he had to bring her back to reality. He crouched down behind her and gently took hold of her shoulders. He was unprepared for her reaction. Megan let out a frightened squawk and twisted away from his touch. Startled, Tony threw up his hands as if he'd received an electric shock. His heart thudded rapidly against his ribcage, and Tony frowned at himself for being so easily frightened. _Get a grip,_ he thought reproachfully, _Megan needs you!_ This time he slipped his hands under her arms and gently gripped her sides. Megan let out another shriek and tried to twist away. Tony ignored her struggles and carefully pulled her to her feet and turned her to face him. He looped one arm around her waist to keep her anchored to him, ignored the soft blows she rained down on his chest and arms and used his other hand to rub small circles into her back in a soothing gesture.

"Hey, Megan," he whispered softly, speaking more for his own benefit than hers. "Wake up, baby, it's just a bad dream."

Megan cried and whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grasp with all of her might. She alternated between clawing at his t-shirt and pounding it with her tiny fists. Tony assumed that he'd been assigned the role of the 'monster' in Megan's dream. He had to reassure her somehow, show her he wasn't going to hurt her. He brought his hand up to her face and began to lightly stroke his thumb against her cheek. Almost instantly he felt a change in her; she stopped struggling and went very still, her hands still fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Emboldened by this he shifted his hand and began combing his fingers through her hair. He felt her lean into the touch and he released a sigh as he too began to relax. He slipped his hand around the back of her head and tugged her carefully into his arms. He held her in a warm embrace and continued to stroke her hair. Megan made a soft grumbling sound and settled against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on her bent arm. Tony slowly stood up, shifting Megan in his arms, holding her more securely against his chest.

Tony made his way back to the bedroom, flicking on the bedside lamp so he could see what he was doing. He had planned on putting her back to bed but he found himself hesitating. Now that he had her safe and warm in his arms he was oddly reluctant to let her go. Holding her this close, listening to her soft, even breathing, and feeling her silky hair slide through his fingers was surprisingly comforting; it was helping to keep Tony's mind off his own nightmare. He settled his chin on top of her head and began to slowly pace next to the bed. He shifted his hand and started rubbing up and down Megan's narrow back. It was kind of ironic that he found this so relaxing, he was certain no-one had ever held him while he slept when he was a child. Tony's father had never chased away his monsters or comforted him after he'd woken from a bad dream; DiNozzo men were expected to face their fears on their own. Maybe Gibbs was right, maybe he could pull off this whole fatherhood thing. God he hoped so, for Megan's sake, he really hoped he could do this. He paced around the bed until his eyes grew heavy, and his body began to ache with drowsiness. He settled Megan onto the bed and climbed in beside her. Turning off the lamp he snuggled under the covers, wrapping his arm around Megan. With a small smile curling his lips, Tony closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The next thing he became aware of was a hand lightly petting his cheek. He dragged his mind out of the haze of sleep and slowly blinked his eyes open. Tony found himself staring at a pair of large hazel eyes. Megan's face was just inches from his own and it took all of Tony's willpower not to jump back in alarm. It took him a few minutes to realize that Megan was lightly stroking his cheek. Tony remained perfectly still, not quite sure how to react. Megan's eyes were wide awake so clearly she knew what she was doing; the question was why was she doing it? Given his lack of experience with kids, Tony's mind drew a blank. Had she been trying to wake him up? Or was she perhaps doing it out of curiosity. Whatever the reason, it felt . . . nice. Tony blinked in surprise. He wasn't normally the kind of person who enjoyed physical affection; it was difficult to enjoy something you weren't entirely accustomed to. His mother had hugged and kissed him when he was very small, but then she had died and Tony had been more or less starved of positive attention. During his time at NCIS, Tony had learned to accept – and eventually like – Abby's enthusiastic displays of affection; she hadn't exactly given him much choice in the matter. He'd also grown accustomed to Gibbs' unique way of expressing his feelings, whether it be a smack to the head or a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder. Other than that Tony didn't really feel comfortable being touched by anyone else . . . until now that is.

Megan's hand moved and she began running her fingers over the stubble on his jaw. Without really thinking about it, Tony lifted his own hand, grazing his knuckles against the soft skin on Megan's cheek. He saw her flash a smile and then she was using his neck as leverage, pulling herself into a sitting position before leaning forward again to give him the weirdest hug he'd ever experienced in his entire life. She was, in effect, hugging his head. Her arm was curled around his neck, her knees were drawn up to his chest and her head was settled on top of his own; her baby-fine hair falling into his eyes and tickling his face. Tony remained still for several minutes, waiting for her to release him. When she just remained like that he huffed out a sigh, blowing Megan's hair away from his mouth. Above him, Megan giggled. Tony grinned broadly as that happy little sound caused him to feel an inexplicable rush of pleasure. Feeling suddenly bold, Tony took Megan's head carefully in his hands and pulled her back to see the cheeky expression on her face. He pulled a goofy face and was rewarded by a gurgling laugh. He then pulled her head back down and pressed his lips to her cheek, blowing a raspberry against her skin. Megan let out a delighted squeal followed by a peal of hysterical laughter. Tony repeated the gesture with similar results and let out a surprised laugh of his own when Megan retaliated by doing the same to him. Panting, he rolled onto his back, allowing Megan to flop onto his shoulder where she continued to giggle for several more minutes. When she eventually settled down she pushed herself onto her elbows, glancing down at him with bright mischievous eyes. She was wearing _his_ famous mega watt smile – the one he'd recognized the first time he had caused her to laugh; the same smile he had blatantly tried to ignore as the clue that it inevitably turned out to be. This time he embraced the family resemblance, letting his expression match Megan's.

"Yah hungry?" he asked cheerfully. Again he was speaking more for his own benefit than Megan's.

Megan's grin just seemed to grow wider. She placed her little hands either side of Tony's face and leaned forward, kissing him sweetly on the tip of his nose. Tony's stomach did a funny back flip and he was mortified to feel himself blushing. He'd never been kissed by a child before – at least, not in his adult life anyway. He blinked up at her as his muddled feelings – shock, joy, fear, pride, excitement – jostled about for position beneath his breast. She didn't give him time to react as she chose that moment to crawl off him and slide out of bed. A few minutes later, as he lay there stunned by what had just happened, he heard the toilet flush. Giving himself a mental shake, Tony rolled out of bed and went in search of the little girl. He found her standing in front of the television in her rumpled pajamas, her hair adorably mussed and sticking up in places, and her attention glued to a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Feeling particularly cheery, Tony whistled a random tune as he made his way to the kitchen and pulled down the box of Fruit Loops from his cereal cupboard.

"Maybe I should get a dining table?" he said a few minutes later, as he watched Megan crouch over the coffee table, cramming Fruit Loops messily into her mouth. Rationally he knew he should shut up and stop talking to himself, but he couldn't help it. Talking to her, even when he knew he wouldn't get a response, helped keep the awkwardness at bay and made him feel more at ease.

Megan finished eating a few minutes later but apparently she was still hungry because Tony suddenly found his view of the TV blocked as she stood before him, giving him a rather endearing smile. Tony pursed his lips in amusement; he recognized begging when he saw it. Releasing a put-upon sigh he raised his spoon and popped it into her mouth when she obediently opened it. He continued to share the cereal between them until it was all gone; he was even kind enough to let Megan slurp the leftover milk from his bowl.

"I like your hair," he said teasingly, tousling the tangled blonde strands. "Looks like you could do with a ba…" his voice trailed off in horror as the full ramifications of that thought hit home.

Megan needed a bath. A _bath!_ And there was no way in hell Tony was going to be the person to give her one. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! NO WAY! NUH-UH! NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! He barely knew her; he couldn't possibly be expected to take such . . . liberties. It was bad enough trying to dress her every morning – but this! He hadn't even been able to change her underwear – which from a hygienic point of view seemed pretty disgusting – but he couldn't help it, he'd just been so damned embarrassed. And surely Megan wouldn't want a guy she'd only known for a few days to see her n-n-nuh-n-nuuh – in the buff!

The fact still remained, however, that Megan was starting to get a bit ripe and that blonde mane of hers was in desperate need of a good washing. Something had to be done about it and unfortunately for Tony there was no-one he could turn to for help; the two people he would normally have gone to for assistance – Gibbs and Abby – were at work. Which meant, he would have to figure something out on his own. _Okay, don't panic, DON'T PANIC . . . . . . . . . I can't help it, I'm __**panicking!**_

Megan, who was still staring at him, tilted her head to one side in confusion as she watched the display of emotions flit across Tony's face. He forced himself to calm down. He had to man up and deal with this. There had to be some kind of solution. And then a genius idea struck him!

"Stay here," he said, raising his hands and making the universal sign for 'stay' before springing to his feet.

He missed the perplexed little frown Megan shot him as he hurried off, and the minute shrug she did before turning back to the TV. He tore into his bedroom and ran to his dresser, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the clothes folded inside, muttering "Where are they? Where are they?" under his breath. When he didn't immediately find what he was looking for he began pulling things out and tossing them over his shoulder in sheer desperation.

"Aha!" he crowed a few minutes later, pulling out a pair of swimming trunks and holding them up as if they were a trophy, laughing triumphantly like a madman.

Glancing quickly about the room, he changed hurriedly out of his boxers and into the swimming trunks. Grinning like a Cheshire cat he returned to the living room, grabbed Megan's rucksack which was sitting next to the couch, before lifting Megan into his arms – who made an indignant sound as he led her away from the cartoons. He set her down in the bathroom and pointed towards the shower and then pointed at Megan and himself, hoping she would understand what he was trying to tell her. The incredulous look she game him was downright adorable and Tony figured she had understood his message. Chuckling quietly to himself, he pulled the kids' shampoo and conditioner from Megan's bag and set them on the shelf inside the shower stall, next to his own shampoo. He then pulled his shirt over his head and stuffed it in the laundry basket. He reached into the shower again and turned the water on, setting the temperature a little lower than he usually preferred. Turning back to Megan, he noticed the slightly wary expression on her face. Tony approached her slowly and ran his hand over her head reassuringly. This seemed to be enough to set her back at ease. Steeling himself, he helped Megan out of her pajamas. With her underwear firmly in place, Tony lifted Megan into the shower and stepped in behind her. It wasn't a bath, but it would get her clean just the same.

Megan giggled, apparently taken by the novelty of having a shower while still technically clothed. Tony smiled down at her before grabbing the strawberry scented kids' shampoo. He squeezed a generous amount of the pink liquid onto his palm, set the bottle back on the shelf, and began massaging it into Megan's scalp. She patiently endured his ministrations, swaying back and forth slightly as his strong hands worked the shampoo into a lather. When he was done he tilted her head back and combed his fingers through her hair to help rinse out the shampoo. He then repeated the process with the conditioner. When Megan was clean and sweet-smelling, Tony focused on washing his own hair. By the time he was finished the water was beginning to cool, and Megan started to shiver. _Lousy water heater, _he thought grumpily, switching off the water and ushering Megan out of the stall. He grabbed a fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around Megan's small, trembling frame. Then he grabbed one for himself and dried himself haphazardly. Still dripping water everywhere, Tony dropped to his knees and began to meticulously dry Megan. Once he was satisfied, Tony yanked his robe off the back of the bathroom door and slipped it on. Shaking water from his head like a dog, Tony scooped Megan up and carried her one-armed to the bedroom.

To make life easier for both of them, Tony let Megan pick her own clothes from her suitcase. She pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans with butterflies embroidered on the pants leg and the back pocket, and a bright purple two-in-one t-shirt with green and white striped sleeves; the inscription 'deaf kids rule' was printed in electric blue on the front. It was left to Tony to pluck out fresh underwear and socks. Now came the part he'd been dreading. Squeezing his eyes almost shut, Tony helped Megan step out of soaking wet underwear and hastily dried her backside before helping her into the fresh pair. He let out a dramatic sigh once that embarrassing detail was out of the way and feeling far more relaxed he continued to help her dress. When she was decent Tony grabbed some clothes from his dresser and changed in the bathroom. He returned with comb in hand and proceeded to straighten the tangles from Megan's hair, realizing that he would soon need to purchase a blow-dryer. As he dragged the comb through the damp golden locks, Tony couldn't help leaning forward slightly and breathing in the sweet strawberry fragrance left behind in Megan's hair by the shampoo. He quite liked her smelling of strawberries, he would have to remember to keep buying that particular brand of shampoo. When he finally finished combing her hair, Tony couldn't resist leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on Megan's head, surprising himself even as he did it. Megan turned and gave him a smile before marching out of the room, no doubt heading for the TV.

A few seconds passed while Tony sat there, stunned with what he had just done. He snapped out of it with a shake of his head and leaned down to pluck Megan's towel and underwear from the floor. When he stood up he noticed a piece of folded paper on the bedside cabinet. He hesitated, then picked it up, folding it opened and glancing down at Megan's old address and her mother's contact details. Tony set his mouth in a fine line and nodded – coming to a decision – and then stuffed the paper into his back pocket. He moved about the bedroom, cleaning up the mess he'd made earlier. He then went to the kitchen and washed the dishes he'd left the previous night, glancing over his shoulder every few minutes to watch Megan as she watched TV. Setting the plates on the draining board to dry, Tony found a notepad and pen and scrawled a quick note for Megan suggesting that they go for a drive, even going so far as to draw a little car to further illustrate his point.

"Hey, you wanna go out for a while?" he asked, crouching next to her and showing her the note. Megan's eyes scanned over the paper and she nodded eagerly. A few minutes later he was strapping the three-year-old into her car seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

* * *

McGee heaved a huge, weary sigh, letting his gaze wander to the empty desk next to his own. McGee was bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED! The bullpen was just so damn quiet! Gibbs was on a coffee run, Tony was at home and he and Ziva were stuck looking through cold case files. As much as he hated to admit it, McGee really missed Tony when he was on leave. Tony just had a way of ensuring that things never got boring around the office; whether he was rambling on incessantly about some movie that McGee had never heard of, or pulling pranks on his unsuspecting co-workers (which more often than not turned out to be McGee), or just simply clowning around like a big kid. As annoying as all that could be at times, it was better than the alternative; sitting in near silence going over old unsolved cases. It was amazing how one juvenile man could leave such a gaping hole in their team with his mere absence.

"Sure is nice to have some peace and quiet around here, huh?" he asked Ziva, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his tone and not really succeeding.

If Ziva noticed then she didn't comment on it. "Yes," she agreed mildly. "It is good to be able to here one's thoughts."

"Yeah," he said, plastering a smile onto his face. _God! Two weeks of this!_ He was going to go insane. "Uh . . . how's your nose?" he asked awkwardly.

"Much better," Ziva replied, "thank you for asking. How's your eye?"

McGee grimaced, recalling his horror as he'd caught sight of his reflection that morning and the impressive swelling and vivid purple bruising which had stared back at him from his mirror. "Hurts," he admitted. "But I'll live."

Ziva gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back to her computer. McGee nodded to himself and dropped his gaze back to the open case file on his desk. Yup, McGee was bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED! Sighing again, McGee let his eyes slide back to Tony's empty desk. It was going to be a _long_ two weeks.

* * *

Tony pulled into a quiet, suburban neighborhood and parked out front of a quaint little wooden house. He sat there for several minutes just staring at it. So this was where Megan had spent the last four years of her life. This was Megan's home . . . or at least, it _had_ been. Tony felt odd being here, almost as if he was intruding somehow – which was nonsense of course, because as Megan's father he had every right to be here. Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he shouldn't be here. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into the back where Megan was occupied with her DS-game. He shook her knee to get her attention and pointed out the window. Tony watched Megan's face light up as she took in her surroundings. She turned to him, an impossibly wide grin on her face, her expression one of sheer joy. Tony was startled by how much pain that one look caused him as he suddenly found himself wishing that he had been the one to inspire such an expression of happiness. Shoving his own feelings and reservations to one side, Tony got out of the car and went round the other side to let Megan out. He'd barely finished unfastening her when she jumped out of the car and ran up the concrete path leading to the front door. Midway, however, Megan ground to a sudden halt and just stood there, frozen to the spot like some kind of living lawn ornament. Tony got the horrible sense that she had just remembered the exact reason why she had been taken away from here in the first place.

Taking note of the 'For Sale' sign in the yard, Tony walked slowly towards the motionless little girl. She glanced up when he reached her and Tony caught his breath, his chest constricted painfully as he saw the expression of loss and devastation etched onto Megan's little face. She signed something to him – the first time she had done so – and Tony wished more than ever that he could understand what she was saying. He shook his head, trying to convey with his expression that he didn't understand. Megan's lips formed an unhappy little pout as she dropped her gaze to the ground. Tony's heart ached for her; it must be so confusing for someone so young to comprehend the concept of death. He reached out his hand, combing his fingers through her hair in a soothing gesture. Nudging her forward with his palm, they continued along the path until they reached the house. Megan stared glumly at the front door while Tony shielded his eyes and peered into the window. He found himself staring at an empty front room. Tony couldn't quite explain why he had brought them here. Logically he had known the place would be empty and that it was pointless coming here, but he'd just had this overwhelming urge to see it with his own eyes; almost as if he was expecting to find answers to questions that were only half formed in his head. _This is stupid, _he berated himself, _the only thing you've achieved in coming here is upsetting Megan._

Sighing, he turned away from the window with the intention of taking Megan back to the car. He froze, the bottom falling out of his stomach, as he realized Megan was gone. Before he had the chance to panic, however, he suddenly spotted her heading for the neighbor's house. He sighed again, this time in relief, and took after her. He reached her just as she was using a conveniently placed upside down plant pot as a step so she could ring the doorbell.

"Hey!" he cried, snatching her down by the armpits. He was just about to lead Megan away when the neighbor's door suddenly opened, revealing a stout, grey haired lady.

"Megan!" she cried – her voice a mixture of surprise and joy – rushing outside just as Megan launched herself into the woman's arms.

To say Tony was surprised by this turn of events would be an understatement. For a heart-stopping moment, Tony thought there had been some kind of huge misunderstanding; he thought perhaps Abby had made a mistake and given him the wrong address or looked up the wrong obituary because for those fleeting few seconds he was certain he'd just come face to face with Megan's grandmother. And it was incredible the devastation that smashed through him with that one thought. The bright, happy future Tony hadn't even realized he'd been looking forward to was being torn from his grasp before he could even take advantage of it. Had this all been some elaborate hoax? Was someone messing with his head? Tony gave himself a mental shake. _Don't be absurd,_ he thought logically, _no-one would ever pull something so cruel, not to you and especially not to Megan because she certainly wasn't in on any joke._ He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat but there was still a niggle of doubt at the back of Tony's head and his heart continued to flutter uncontrollably like a frightened bird trapped in a cage. Seconds turned to minutes and all the while not a trace of Tony's panic and confusion appeared on his face. To the casual observer, Tony was perfectly at ease as he watched his child hug a random old lady. Forcing himself to take action, Tony opened his mouth and addressed the woman.

Nothing came out so Tony snapped his jaw shut. He cleared his throat, gaining the woman's attention, and tried again. "Hi, I'm …"

"Megan's father," the woman cut across him, a look of astonishment on her face.

Tony froze, staring at the woman in shock. "How did you –?"

"Your eyes," she interrupted him for a second time. "They're exactly like Megan's."

_Oh, _Tony thought blushing. He should have known that but he was still getting used to the fact that he and Megan looked so alike. "I'm Anthony DiNozzo . . . err . . . who are you?"

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm Josephine, Josephine Murphy," she explained, shaking Tony's hand. "Madge and I were best friends."

"Madge?"

"Marguerite," said Josephine, "Megan's grandmother."

"Oh," said Tony, finally letting himself relax. He dropped his gaze to Megan who was clinging to Josephine as if for dear life. Josephine was hugging her close, but the woman's gaze was locked on Tony. She was staring at him as if he'd just sprouted horns and it was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable.

"God, I'm sorry," she said, blushing slightly, apparently just realizing that she'd been staring. "I don't mean to stare but . . . well it's just so strange . . . seeing Megan's face on a man." She winced the instant the words left her mouth. "That came out wrong," she said sounding mortified. "What I meant was …"

Tony laughed. "It's okay, really . . . I get it," he assured her.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked, the question taking Tony by surprise. "I think we should talk."

"Yeah . . . okay," Tony replied, making it sound as if he liked the idea when really he was quaking inside with nervousness.

Josephine gave him a warm smile before dropping her gaze back to Megan. She tugged the three-year-old back so she had her attention and then signed something to her. Megan nodded, took Josephine's hand, and led the way inside. Tony took a deep breath, trying to expel the butterflies which had taken up residence in his belly, and stepped inside the house, closing the door behind him. _No turning back now,_ he thought anxiously.

"Andrew! Andrew, come look who's here!" Josephine called. "Andrew's my son," she explained to Tony a moment later, who nodded awkwardly. There was no response, nor any sign anyone else was in the house. Josephine sighed, looking exasperated. She raised her hands and signed to Megan who began to bounce in excitement. The three-year-old ran forward, grabbing hold of Tony's hand and giving his arm a good tug. "She wants to introduce you to Andrew," Josephine translated at Tony's perplexed expression. He blinked at her in surprise. "It's alright, his room is just down the hall," she said, gesturing with her hand. "He won't mind you popping in," she assured him. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Err . . . sure," Tony said over his shoulder as Megan dragged him down the hall.

"What do you take?"

"Cream and sugar . . . quite a lot of sugar, actually," he called.

"Aaaah . . . so that's where Megan gets her sweet tooth from," Tony heard Josephine say, followed by a tinkling laugh.

When Megan dragged him to a bedroom door – which Tony assumed belonged to Andrew – and pulled him inside, Tony thought for a moment that he'd stepped into a Star Trek convention. Everywhere he looked was plastered with Star Trek memorabilia; there were posters, books, DVDs, a bedspread, a lamp, toys, action figures, miniature replicas, even a Star Trek themed lightshade! It was a Trekie's fantasy bedroom come true. McGeek's eyes would be popping out of his skull if he could see all this. Tony had been expecting Andrew to be a surly teenager with bad social habits, so he was a little taken aback to find the room's occupant to be a tall, gangling man in his late twenties with dark hair plastered to his skull. Andrew was sitting in front of an old TV, his tall frame folded onto a black bean bag chair with yellow stars, watching – unsurprisingly – a classic episode of Star Trek. He neither looked up nor acknowledged his visitors, just continued to watch TV, rocking his body back and forth slightly. Megan dropped Tony's hand and strode over to Andrew, placing her body directly in front of him.

"MEGAN!" Andrew cried in a deep yet childish voice, throwing his long arms around Megan and enveloping her in a big bear hug.

And that was about as far as the conversation went. Megan turned in the circle of Andrew's arms and made herself comfortable on his lap, sitting back to watch the TV. Satisfied that Megan was happy where she was, Tony wandered off in search of the kitchen.

"Hi," he said when he finally found it, smiling at Josephine who was almost finished making the coffee.

"Sounds like you've made Andrew's day; he's really missed having Megan around."

"He's autistic isn't he?" Tony asked, hoping he didn't sound rude.

Josephine looked at him in surprise. "Yes, not many people recognize it . . . they just assume he's . . . slow."

Tony shrugged self-consciously. "I have a cousin who's autistic . . . I recognized the signs," he told her quietly.

Josephine nodded, handing him his coffee. "We tried teaching him sign language so he could communicate with Megan but . . . well, he's a stubborn boy and when he doesn't want to do something there's just no reasoning with him. I'm not really sure he understands what it means to be deaf; I mean I did explain it to him but I don't think he really gets it. It doesn't quite fit in with his little world."

Not really sure how to respond to that Tony took a sip of his coffee, smiling in pleasure when he found it was just to his liking.

"I wish Madge could have met you," Josephine continued, gazing up at Tony with her kind, brown eyes. "She was so desperate to find you . . . but we didn't know anything about you, the only thing Erika let slip was that you were Italian – it's why Megan's middle name is Juno . . . course I suppose you didn't know that, did you?" Josephine sighed, dropping her gaze briefly. "I swear if I had known Erika would take off with Megan the way she did, I never would have called her for the funeral! She had no right to up and leave like that without even letting Megan say goodbye. The girl hasn't been in Megan's life since she was a month old – she doesn't know anything about her! I've never been so worried in all my life." She took a few deep breaths and then blushed. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't be dumping all this on you."

"It's okay," Tony said, giving her a brief, reassuring smile. "Can you tell me ..." He sighed. "Did . . . did Erika –" the name felt strange on his lips "– did she really give up Megan just because she's deaf?" he asked uncomfortably.

Josephine looked at him sadly. "To be honest with you, dear, Erika never wanted a baby in the first place. She wanted …" She broke off, glancing uneasily at the door. "She wanted to abort the pregnancy," she whispered gravely. Tony stared at her, feeling as if he'd swallowed a block of ice. "Thankfully, she went to Madge before she made any hasty decisions. Madge convinced her to keep the baby; after losing Albert and Amy in the accident she couldn't bear to lose another family member, especially not a grandchild."

Tony felt a sudden and unexpected rush of gratitude for Megan's grandmother, a woman he would never have the pleasure of meeting.

"For a while I thought everything would work out, but then Megan was born and . . . well Erika just didn't seem to bond with her properly . . . didn't seem to _want_ to bond with her; she barely picked her up, she didn't want to nurse her, she wouldn't change her, she couldn't even pick out a name – Madge had to do that! Then Megan went for her first check up and the doctor was a little concerned by what he found so they did some tests and …" Josephine trailed off, frowning slightly. "We didn't realize, you see. We just thought Megan was a quiet baby. Erika took off two days after we found out Megan was deaf. Didn't even bother to tell her mother; just packed a bag and left. Erika always has been the kind of girl who runs away from her problems instead of dealing with them."

Tony looked down at his feet, feeling a prickle of guilt settle in his chest. He wasn't much better than Erika; he too had run away when Abby had confirmed that he was Megan's father. _Yeah, but at least you came back, _he told himself bracingly.

"You know I would have loved to be there to hear Erika's explanation when she turned up at your door after all these years, with a child in tow," Josephine confessed bitterly.

Tony shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling extremely uncomfortable again. "Well, uh . . . she didn't exactly explain . . . per say," he said nervously.

"What do you mean?" asked Josephine, frowning at him in confusion.

"She . . . uh . . . I . . . well, err …" He sighed, resigned to the inevitable. "Look the truth is, I found Megan at my doorstep at 3 A.M. Monday morning, with a short note explaining who she was and not much else. I didn't even realize she was deaf until my boss worked it out – see, he knows sign language too. And it was our forensic scientist, Abby, who tracked down Megan's old address . . . and so, here I am," he explained at a rapid pace.

Josephine stared at him wide-eyed with shock. Then her face flushed with anger. "I could _strangle_ the girl!" she cried angrily. "Of all the stupid, selfish –!"

"MAMMA!"

Tony jumped and whirled around, finding Andrew standing in the doorway with Megan peering round his legs.

"Mamma!" he yelled again, not quite as loudly as before. "Andrew would like something to eat!" he demanded.

"What do you say, Andrew?" Josephine asked, wiping clean the anger from her face and voice.

"Andrew would _PLEASE_ like something to eat!" he said, still making it sound like a demand rather than a request.

"Alright, what would you like?"

Andrew put the heel of his hand to his forehead and thought for a moment, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Pop Tarts!"

"Okay, sit down at the table then," Josephine instructed, pointing him towards the table. "What about you, Megan?" she asked, signing as she said it. "Are you hungry?" Megan raised a fist and made it nod like a little head. "What would you like to eat?" She laughed when Megan answered before pointing towards the table also. "Can I get you anything, Anthony?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he answered graciously. "And you can call me Tony."

"Okay, Tony," she said with a warm smile. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Tony nodded and took a seat at the kitchen table, opposite Megan. Josephine went to one of the cupboards and pulled out a packet of Pop Tarts, which she tore open and stuck in the toaster. She then picked up a cookie jar from the counter and set it on the table in front of Megan. Megan flashed a bright smile and made the sign for 'thank you' before standing on her chair and reaching into the jar, pulling out two Oreo cookies. Tony grinned at the sight of her eager little face.

"Her favorite," Josephine said in a stage whisper, giving Megan a playful wink.

Tony made a mental note to add Oreo cookies to his grocery list. Andrew clapped his hands as the toaster popped and Josephine went to retrieve the Pop Tarts, setting them on a plate before handing them to Andrew. With a sigh, Josephine plopped herself next to Tony and fixed him with a rather serious gaze.

"If you don't mind me asking, Tony, why are you here?" she asked, her tone just as serious as her expression.

Tony chuckled nervously, staring into his coffee cup as if he could find the answer in there. "That's a really good question," he said, avoiding her penetrating gaze.

"Let me put it another way: did you come here to give Megan back?" she asked bluntly.

Tony's head snapped up at that. Had he? Had he come here hoping to find someone to take Megan off his hands? _NO,_ he thought fiercely. _No I didn't!_ "No!" he declared firmly. "I admit I may have considered that possibility when I first found Megan at my door but . . . no, that's not why I came here. I don't know _why_ I came, I just – it wasn't to give her back, I swear!" he said vehemently.

Josephine nodded approvingly. "I believe you," she said quietly. She stared at him for a few minutes, a thoughtful expression on her lined face. "I think you came here out of curiosity," she announced after a long pause. "I think you came here hoping that if you knew more about where Megan came from you would be able to understand her better."

Tony stared at the old woman in wonder. That was it precisely. In one sentence she had managed to untangle his jumbled thoughts and feelings about why he had ventured out to this quiet little neighborhood. But it was more than that and suddenly Tony understood why he'd felt a tug while staring at Megan's old address – a tug which he had followed without question, even though he didn't expect to find anything here. It wasn't that he was simply curious about where Megan had spent the early years of her childhood; no he wanted to confirm that she'd been happy, that she had been cared for and loved, he wanted to make sure she hadn't had a childhood like his. "What was Madge like?" he asked hesitantly.

A bright, affectionate smile curved Josephine's thin lips, causing the corners of her eyes to crinkle. "I suppose the best way to describe her would be a free spirit. She refused to obey to conventional rules set for women of our generation; she went off to university and got a degree in art at a time when girls were expected to find a husband and settle down as a docile housewife; she _always_ spoke her mind; she always stood up for what she believed in; she dressed how she liked, not what fashion dictated she should wear; and she was always kind to every person she met no matter what their race or creed, unless they gave her good reason to dislike them. I half expected her to work as a college professor forever –" Tony arched his eyebrows in surprise, he hadn't realized Megan's grandmother had taught art in college "– but she gave it all up when Megan came along. She was absolutely devoted to that child …" Josephine trailed off, looking at the child in question sadly.

"You know I think this is the first time Megan has ever been parted from Madge for more than a few hours in her whole life. Madge loved her more than anything. She spent every day with her; teaching her to sign; teaching her to draw; teaching her to read," said Josephine, this last part causing her to smile slightly. "You know the experts tell you it's extremely difficult to teach a deaf child to read, you know because they can't hear what each word sounds like. But Madge was determined – she wanted Megan to have an advantage – so every new sign Madge taught her she showed her the word that corresponded, so Megan would recognize each one. Then she taught her how to shape the sound of each word, showed her how each word _felt_."

Tony frowned in confusion. "How?" he asked.

"The same way they teach deaf children to speak," Josephine explained. "By placing the child's hand against your throat when you say the word so they can feel the vibration and then putting their hand in front of your mouth and repeating so they can feel the expulsion of air each word makes. It's not a perfect method but it's better than nothing. I'm not sure if Madge's determination would have worked on just any deaf child but Megan has always been smart – so very, very smart – and I think that helped, and so she was reading before she could even walk properly, and she's only gotten better as she's grown."

Tony smiled at the image Josephine painted. Marguerite Wilson sounded like an extraordinary woman and Tony wished more than ever that he had gotten the chance to meet her. However, he was grateful that Megan had had such an amazing influence in the shape of her grandmother.

"You know," Josephine continued in slightly wistful tone. "As great as all the things Madge taught Megan were, the most important lesson she taught her was to never, _never_ be ashamed of who she was or the way she was born. Plenty of people tried to convince her otherwise; told her she should get Megan a hearing aid or force her to talk but Madge refused. She said Megan had been born deaf for a reason and it wasn't anyone's right to question that reason. She said any decision regarding hearing aids or the like should be Megan's to make, once she was old enough to understand what it meant. Madge was proud of her no matter what."

Tony stared at Josephine for several minutes after she fell silent. "Thank you," he said with feeling. "I think I found what I came for."

Josephine gave him another of those bright, warm smiles of hers. "Your welcome."

Tony glanced into his empty coffee cup. "I should go," he said quietly.

Josephine's smile grew wider. "Yes, you have a new life to begin," she said affectionately. "But before you do, I have something else for you."

Tony looked at her in confusion as she got to her feet. Josephine just continued to smile, tapping the side of her nose secretively, beckoning him to follow her. Megan surprised him by hopping off her chair and latching onto his hand. Josephine led them down the hallway and into what Tony assumed was a guest bedroom, where the floor space was covered with cardboard boxes.

"I saved as much as I could – the important things anyway – just incase Erika came back for Megan's things," Josephine explained, rummaging about in one of the boxes labeled 'Megan's toys'. "Aha!" she cried, pulling out a grubby looking teddy bear. "There you are Cubby."

Megan's face split into a dazzling smile and she began bouncing up and down on the spot, squeezing the life out of 'Cubby' when Josephine handed it to her. Cubby was a smallish teddy, with a round almost flat face, and grayish, fleecy fur – which presumably had been white at some point. He looked like a well loved teddy bear and Tony knew instantly that this was Megan's favorite toy. He felt an unexpected stab of anger towards Erika who, quite clearly, hadn't taken the time to figure out which toy Megan would want with her, instead just grabbing any old toy that came to hand. He forced himself to calm down; he would not let the shadow of Erika spoil anything else.

"This is all Megan's stuff?" he asked.

"Yeah, her toys and clothes, and a few of Madge's things, photographs mostly . . . I would like Megan to have them, if that's alright?"

"Yes, I'd like her to have them as well," Tony said earnestly. "I want her to remember the woman who was there for her from the beginning."

Josephine's eyes were suspiciously bright all of a sudden. "Oh," she said, voice a little choked, turning toward another box. "I would like you to have this," she said, pulling out an expensive looking digital SLR camera and handing it to Tony.

"Me! I – I c-couldn't …!" he stuttered awkwardly, trying to hand it back.

"Please I insist, Madge had a habit of taking a picture of Megan _every_ day; so she would have a complete record," Josephine explained, pushing it back into his hands. "And I have no use for it; I can barely operate a microwave oven never mind this flashy camera."

Tony flushed, embarrassed and unexpectedly honored to be given something Megan's grandmother must have cherished almost as much as Megan. Josephine reached back into the box, this time pulling out a decorative, handmade, wooden jewelry box.

"You'll need this too," she added, holding it out to him. At Tony's confused frown she opened it, revealing dozens of memory cards nestled inside, each one carefully labeled with the date and year. Tony stared at them in wonder; Megan's whole life was stored on those little squares of plastic and metal. He took the box from Josephine, almost reverently, tucking it safely under his arm. He gazed about at all the boxes again.

"It's gonna take me a few trips to get all this stuff back home," he said.

"Nonsense," cried Josephine, waving a hand dismissively. "My neighbor, Roy, owns a pickup truck, I'm sure he'll be happy to help you transport this stuff."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am," Josephine assured. "Roy was a friend of Madge's too."

"Great, I'd really appreciate that."

"One more thing, hun," Josephine whispered. "In here –" she indicated to a box labeled simply 'Madge' "– is a birthday present Madge made for Megan. It's a doll, a very special Harry Potter doll – I don't know if you've noticed but Megan is obsessed with Harry Potter – she begged and begged Madge for a Harry doll that she could take to bed, so Madge spent months making her one. I'd very much like for her to get it on her birthday, it's ne–"

"Next week, I know," Tony cut across her. "Don't worry; I'll see to it she gets it and that she knows who it's from."

"Thank you," she said, flashing him a grateful smile.

* * *

Twenty minutes later all the boxes were safely packed away in Tony's car and the red pickup owned by Josephine's neighbor Roy – who, despite his gruff, grumpy exterior, seemed more than happy to lend a hand. Tony and Josephine had exchanged phone numbers, making promises to keep in touch; a promise Tony intended to keep. Megan quietly sobbed as Tony strapped her into her car seat, making him feel all the more guilty for tearing her from Josephine's goodbye embrace; but if Megan had had her way she would likely have never let go. Tears slid slowly down Josephine's wrinkled face, while she stood next to the car, signing to Megan; trying her best to explain and reassure the three-year-old that this wasn't a permanent goodbye. Tony was surprised by how emotional this whole thing was making him feel; it was taking all his effort not to break down and start crying along with the girls. _Must be getting soft in my old age,_ he thought wryly.

"Thanks," he said, turning to Josephine, feeling awkward, sad and embarrassed all at once.

Josephine gave him a watery smile and pulled him into a quick hug. She was so short Tony had to bend his knees slightly to return the embrace properly.

"You take good care of that girl," she ordered softly, her voice breaking towards the end.

"I promise I will," Tony replied, silently praying that he could live up to such a promise.

Josephine pulled back, clasping his hands between her own. "If you ever need any help, or someone to talk to or anything – you call me," she insisted, as more tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm always here if you need me."

Tony nodded his understanding, not quite trusting himself to speak just yet.

"C'mon, Josie!" Roy called from his pickup. "The boy doesn't want you blubbering all over him, and I've still got a fence to paint when I get back or Sheila will have my head – so if you don't mind, lets get this show on the road!"

Josephine and Tony grinned at each other. The old woman rolled her eyes dramatically. "Alright you old grouch, I'm finished," she retorted, trying to sound exasperated and not quite managing it. "Off you go, Tony, before I make an even bigger fool of myself."

Tony chuckled. "Goodbye, Josephine," he said, shaking her hand.

"Goodbye. You take care, now."

"I will," he said, forcing himself to walk round to the other side of the car and climb inside.

Josephine blew Megan a kiss and started to wave as they pulled away from the curb. Megan waved frantically out the window, still sobbing softly, crushing Cubby to her chest. Tony's gut twisted with guilt when Megan let out an unhappy wail as they turned the corner and lost sight of Josephine. At the first set of traffic lights they stopped at, Tony turned in his seat and patted Megan consolingly on the knee, giving her a reassuring smile. She stared back at him, her eyes shining, cheeks tearstained, wearing an unhappy little pout on her lips. He gave her knee a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb across the denim of her jeans.

"It'll be okay," he told her softly, holding her gaze. "I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It took several trips for Tony and Roy to carry all the boxes up to Tony's apartment, their progress hindered by the obsolete elevator. By the time they were almost finished Tony's lungs were protesting and Megan was grumbling softly under her breath and dragging her feet as she climbed the three flights of stairs for the umpteenth time without the luxury of being carried; Tony felt bad about that but he'd been reluctant to leave her alone either in the apartment or the car.

"There yah go," Roy grunted, dumping the last box on the living room floor.

"Thanks," Tony panted, setting his own box to one side.

"You asthmatic, kid?" asked Roy, sounding concerned.

"Nah," gasped Tony, waving off Roy's concern. "Just an old complaint that flares up every now and then." He pressed a hand against a stitch in his chest. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Tony assured, flashing his mega watt smile. "Thanks for everything, Roy."

"No worries, kid," Roy returned easily. "I best get going. You take care now, yah hear?" he said, shaking Tony's hand. "Don't let this one give yah too much trouble," he added, bending down to Megan, who was seated on the floor rubbing her legs, and tousling her hair.

"I'll try," Tony said, grinning.

Tony waited until the door closed behind Roy before releasing a groan and collapsing onto the floor next to Megan. He took a few minutes to relax his breathing. When he glanced back up he found Megan staring at him grumpily, adorable pout tugging at her lips, skinny arms folded across her chest. Even Cubby seemed to stare at him accusingly from his position between Megan's outstretched legs. Lips twitching, Tony rearranged himself so he was now sitting in a mirror image of Megan's pose; arms crossed, lips pouted, expression grumpy. Megan's brow furrowed at Tony's antics, causing a small crease to appear between her eyebrows. She hunched her shoulders and stuck her bottom lip out even more. Tony mimicked her move for move. She released an annoyed little puff of air and dropped her chin almost to her chest, continuing to glare up at him. Tony followed suit, ignoring the slight crick in his neck. They remained like that for several minutes, both of them struggling not to be amused by the other. Grinning on the inside, Tony delivered the fatal blow and stuck out his tongue. That finally did it; the sight of a grown man sticking his tongue out like a toddler caused Megan to crack a smile.

"HA!" Tony crowed triumphantly, pointing at Megan's smile which she hastily tried to cover up. "Don't try to hide it, I saw that little smile," he said, leaning closer and tickling her under the chin. Megan giggled and squirmed away. "There it was again!" He hooked an arm around her waist and hauled her over his legs where he began to tickle her mercilessly. Megan was laughing hysterically now, throwing up her arms to defend herself, trying to wriggle away from Tony's fingers. Tony's chest swelled with warmth as he bathed in the sight and sound of Megan's happiness; he would try his best to make sure she was always this happy. Tony's fingers fell still when he heard Megan's breathing hitch ever so slightly. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, wrapping her in a snug embrace. He rubbed his hand up and down her narrow back, soothing her breathing back to normal as she continued to giggle softly against him. He buried his nose in her hair, enjoying the clean, fruity scent. Tony sighed as he felt all the tension drain out of his body; there was something absurdly reassuring about having Megan in his arms like this, something he couldn't quite explain. Megan seemed equally relaxed by the hug, leaning into the contact, head snuggled against Tony's neck. He pulled her back slightly so he could see her face and kissed her soundly on the cheek. He was rewarded with a wide, pearly white grin. Unable to resist, Tony leaned forward and deposited another kiss on Megan's forehead. Impossibly, Megan's grin stretched wider. Tony could feel a matching grin spread across his own face.

"C'mon, let's go unpack the rest of your toys," he said cheerfully; getting to his knees and shuffling across the floor making Megan giggle.

He reached a box labeled 'toys' and set it on the floor. Settling into a kneeling position, Tony opened the box and pulled out the first toy he saw; a bright green stuffed frog with bug eyes and long skinny legs. Megan instantly began bouncing on the spot, making some kind of sign under her chin. Tony grabbed her arm, holding her still, pointing at her chin hoping his expression conveyed he wanted to see the sign again. Megan happily obliged. She raised her right arm, pressing the back of her hand against her chin, fingers curled in a loose fist, thumb held out straight with the index and middle fingers settled on top of it. Then she flicked out the middle and index fingers, forming a V shape before curling them back under and then flicking them out again. Tony copied the action, grinning when Megan gave him the thumbs up gesture.

"Frog?" he asked, pointing at the toy and then repeating the sign he'd just learned. A proud little smile settled on his lips when Megan nodded. Pleased with himself he handed the frog to Megan and pulled out the pen and notepad he'd stashed in his back pocket earlier. He scrawled a quick note for Megan.

_'Does he have a name?'_ It read.

Megan's eyes scanned over the words before she took the pen and pad from Tony, dropping to the floor to write a reply. In tall, wobbly letters she wrote: _'Sophie.'_ Tony blinked in surprise. "Oh," he said, glancing up from the paper. "It's a _girl_ frog – I mean, _of course_ it's a girl frog – she's so pretty and . . . feminine. How do you do, Sophie?" he said, shaking the toy's webbed hand, making Megan smile and stare at him like she thought he was a loon. "Wow, look at that . . . guess your grandma taught you how to write too, huh? You even spelled it right, though the P is backwards but we're all entitled to make a few mistakes, and a backwards P never did anybody any harm."

Tony turned back to the box and began pulling out more toys. There was a blue, cuddly looking dragon named Bob – which Tony thought was hilarious; Bob the dragon, it was genius – a baby doll named Rose; a monkey with long skinny limbs named Jo-Jo; a husky dog named Max; a large brown teddy bear named Gilbert – "_Gilbert!_" Tony cried incredulously, when he read Megan's note – a cuddly pink pig named Flo; and a unicorn named Kevin, of all things! That was one box empty, only about a dozen more to go. Tony sat there for several minutes watching as Megan reacquainted herself with her toys. An affectionate smile curved his lips as he watched Megan play. With a satisfied nod, Tony climbed to his feet and slipped his cell phone out of his pocket. There had been something nagging at him ever since he had gotten up and now that Megan was suitably distracted it was time for him to deal with it. He entered the kitchen, propped his elbows against the worktop, and stared at his list of contacts for a few minutes, biting his lip nervously. He took a deep breath and hit the call button, bringing the phone up to his ear.

"_Tony?"_ said Ziva's wary voice after a few rings.

"Hey," he greeted nervously, feeling suddenly shy.

"_Is everything alright?"_ she asked, a touch of concern now in her tone.

"Yeah, everything's fine," he assured her. "Err . . . you guys working a case?"

"_No,"_ she said, and Tony could imagine the perplexed expression she must be wearing right about now. _"Gibbs has us going through cold case files."_

"Great – I mean –" He winced "– are you busy tonight?" he asked hastily, screwing his eyes shut; anticipating a rejection.

"_Noooo,"_ Ziva said slowly. _"At least, not unless we get a case. Why?" _

Tony opened his eyes and screwed up his courage. "Can you come over?" he blurted. "After work I mean? I'd like to apologize in person. I'll even cook you dinner," he added with a nervous laugh. "Ziva?" he said, when no answer was immediately forthcoming.

"_What time should I come over?"_ she asked.

Tony released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Six good for you?"

"_Six will be fine,"_ she answered, and this time Tony could hear a smile in her voice.

"Great," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll see you at six then."

"_Yes."_

"Bye."

"_Bye."_

Tony hung up the phone and spent the next few minutes grinning like a maniac. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Tonight he would apologize to Ziva for overreacting and hitting her, and show her that he still wanted and needed her friendship, and then everything could go back to normal between them. He sighed and glanced over at Megan; laughing out loud when his eyes fell upon her. While he'd been talking, Megan had made herself comfortable inside the empty cardboard box, gathered her menagerie around her and was turning her hands on an imaginary steering wheel. Tony stepped out of the kitchen, flipped his cell back open and snapped a photo. He put the cell back in his pocket and stared at Megan, hands on hips. Megan gave him a cheeky grin, beeped a silent, imaginary horn and waved him out the way. Tony jumped theatrically to the side.

"Oh I do apologize," he said, speaking in a Carry Grant accent; more for his own amusement than Megan's. "Please carry on, Miss." He did his best impersonation of a traffic cop. Megan stuck out her tongue and blew a loud raspberry. Really hamming it up now Tony did a little jump of surprise; getting a peal of laughter for his efforts. "Sounds like you have car trouble, Miss," he said, stepping closer and pulling onto his face what he believed was a Carry-Grant-like expression. "I could take a look if you like?" He crouched down next to her 'car' and lifted one of the flaps of cardboard. "Aha, I see the problem . . . I'll just adjust this little thing here . . . like that . . . Okay! Let's see if we can get this puppy back on the road, eh, Kiddo?" Tony moved to the back of the box, bending down and gripping it by the sides. He gave it a little push, sliding it along the floor. Megan squawked in surprise and then giggled as Tony continued to push her and her toys along the floor, weaving in and out of the other boxes.

He kept that up until his back began to complain. Reluctantly, he brought the box to a halt and rose to his full height, stretching his back until he heard the vertebrae pop. He plucked the pen and notepad off the floor and wrote down one word – _'lunch'_ – and showed it to Megan. She nodded and climbed out of the box, pushing it and the toys still inside towards the TV and the coffee table, where she began to rearrange them all. Tony smiled and set off for the kitchen to start preparing lunch.

* * *

Gibbs strolled into Abby's lab, Caf-Pow in hand, irritable expression upon his face. Since they didn't have a case this was just a casual visit; not to mention an escape from McGee. If Gibbs heard the younger man huff one more bored sigh, or saw him glance sadly at Tony's desk one more time Gibbs was liable to smack him, and by that he didn't mean on the back of the head! It was bad enough not having Tony where he could keep an eye on him, the last thing Gibbs needed was McGee constantly reminding him of his senior field agent's absence. He paused when he heard Abby's voice. Putting all his sniper training into action, Gibbs crept silently towards Abby's office; curious to know who was down in the lab with her. He saw Abby sitting at her desk, back to the door, talking quietly into her phone. He took a few steps closer, unashamedly listening in on the conversation.

"… voice of your conscience speaking," she muttered threateningly, causing Gibbs to arch his eyebrows in surprise. "Get the feeling you've forgotten something? Something important? Something that's almost like a _part_ of you, for instance? Where do you suppose you may have forgotten this important something? At _someone's_ doorstep, perhaps?"

"Abs?" said Gibbs, staring at her in disbelief.

"NOTHING!" she cried loudly in alarm, slamming the phone back on its cradle. "Um . . . I mean . . . hi, Gibbs!" she added, plastering a large innocent smile onto her face.

"Abs, who were you just calling?" he asked, fixing her with a penetrating gaze.

"Calling?" she squeaked, glancing nervously at the phone and then back at Gibbs. "Nobody!" Gibbs arched one eyebrow disbelievingly. "My cousin," Abby blurted.

"Cousin?" Gibbs repeated, making it clear from his tone that he didn't believe a word of it.

"Yeah . . ." she said, glancing discreetly to the left. "He came over yesterday and . . . dropped his wallet on my doorstep on his way out . . . ha, ha . . . he's always doing things like that, he'd lose his head if it wasn't screwed on," she explained, laughing nervously.

"Oooohh," said Gibbs slowly, nodding understandingly. "I see," he added, curling one corner of his mouth. "'Cause I thought you were calling Megan's Mom."

"What?" yelped Abby. "No I wasn't! Why would you even think …?" she trailed off at the look Gibbs gave her. "Alright! I admit it! I was calling Erika Wilson's home phone number!" she cried unrepentantly. "But I only left a message on her answering machine!"

"Why?"

"Well, I assume she's at work or something …"

"No why did you call her in the first place?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Oh," said Abby, blushing slightly. "Because . . . because she deserves it, Gibbs! In fact she deserves worse! You can't just dump your kid at a doorstep and get away with it like it doesn't matter; somebody has to do something about it! Somebody has to show her it's wrong!" Abby exclaimed loudly, stamping her foot in agitation.

"Calm down, Abs," Gibbs soothed, settling a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't help it," she grumbled, taking a few deep breaths.

"Abby, harassing this woman over the phone is not gonna undo what she did –"

"Yeah but it'll make me feel better," Abby interrupted.

"It also won't change her mind," Gibbs continued, his tone half stern half amused.

"I know that," Abby muttered peevishly.

"Tony's made it clear he doesn't want anything else to do with this woman, so we have to respect his decision," said Gibbs, despite the fact he was on Abby's side. He too wanted to see this woman punished; there was no excuse for ditching a child in such a heartless fashion. But Tony had been adamant last night that he didn't want to contact Erika Wilson – not even to pull her up for leaving Megan at his door like that. Tony just wanted to forget about her and move on with his life and Gibbs had no choice but to follow suit.

"And you can live with that?" Abby asked, making Gibbs wonder if she had read his mind.

"Yeah, so long as I never come face to face with the woman," said Gibbs, an evil grin curling one side of his mouth. And then he would have a few _choice_ words for her.

"Ooh! I love the way your mind works, Gibbs," said Abby, grinning from ear to ear. "So . . . you gonna give me that Caf-Pow or tease me with it all day?" she asked cheekily.

Gibbs chuckled and shoved the Caf-Pow into Abby's waiting hand.

* * *

Tony set his laptop on the coffee table next to the plate with his half eaten grilled cheese sandwich and powered it up. He took another bite out of his sandwich while he waited for his laptop to load. He was sitting on the floor next to Megan who was munching on her own grilled cheese sandwich and playing with her toys. Tony took another large bite out of his sandwich and set it back on the plate as he reached for the wooden jewelry box on the couch. He opened the box, selecting a memory card labeled 'August 2006', and slotted it into the side of the laptop. A window popped up on his screen and Tony clicked on the file containing the photographs, clicking on the first image before it had time to load and opening it in the photo gallery. He almost choked. The first photo was of Erika. She was sitting in a hospital bed, holding a tiny, pink swaddled bundle in her arms, and she looked just as Tony remembered her; thick wavy blond hair tumbling down her shoulders, tanned skin, small shapely figure, and bright blue eyes. However, in this photo she looked tired and entirely unimpressed by the tiny baby she held in her arms. Tony glanced sideways at Megan, who hadn't noticed, and clicked on the next photo. This time he gasped. The next photo was a close-up of baby Megan who must have been asleep in her hospital crib. _Wow,_ he thought, staring at the photo in wonder. Megan's little arms were sprawled around her head; hands curled into tiny fists; eyes firmly shut; lips puckered; tufts of white-blonde hair falling across her forehead. She was beautiful. Tony blinked rather rapidly as he continued to admire the baby on the screen, trying to control the rush of feelings the image inspired. She didn't really look much like him at this age; she just looked like a baby – a pink, perfect little baby.

Tony forced himself to click on the next photo and got another surprise. A silver-haired woman with sparkling blue eyes stared back at him from the computer screen, an expression of sheer joy on her face as she cradled the baby girl in her arms. Tony finally found himself staring at an image of Megan's grandmother Marguerite 'Madge' Wilson. In many ways she was a lot like Erika, only older. Judging by the lines around her eyes and mouth she was someone who laughed and smiled a lot. She was wearing a long, flamboyant, blue silk dress with large purple flowers; blue beaded earrings; and a purple silk scarf, tied in her hair. Tony smiled, she looked like some old hippie and he knew from Josephine's description that she wouldn't have given a damn what anybody thought of her appearance. He clicked on the next photo and found himself faced with a younger, slightly slimmer version of Josephine who was taking her turn holding Megan. There were several more photos like that, including a few more close-ups of Megan; this time with her eyes open which were a dark, slate-blue instead of hazel. The next set of photos was of Megan in a car seat, clearly on her way home from the hospital. She was dressed in a pink stripy baby-gro with matching hat, and bundled in a lilac blanket; a cleaner, fluffier version of Cubby was tucked inside the car seat beside her.

As Tony browsed through the numerous photos of Megan's first month of life he noticed that Erika seemed to have avoided as many photo opportunities as possible since images of her were few and far between. Tony was angry about her obvious absence but a part of him was also secretly glad for it. He was angry that even from the beginning she had showed little interest their daughter, but he was glad that there were few reminders for Megan of the woman who abandoned her twice. Every time he did come across a photograph of Erika he was half tempted to delete it, an impulse he forced himself to resist; it wasn't fair to Megan, she had every right to know where she had come from – even if the woman in question was a callous, cowardly, selfish bitch!

Tony jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Megan leaning against his shoulder, staring at the computer screen. He hastily clicked off the latest image of Erika he had found and winced when an image of Madge replaced it. Hesitantly, Tony glanced up to see Megan's expression; surprised when he found her smiling. She pointed at the screen and then made a sign – touching her chin with her thumb, her fingers splayed, and then making two little arches in the air with her still splayed hand – which Tony assumed was the sign for Grandmother. Tony smiled; glad he hadn't upset her. He arched his eyebrows when Megan climbed onto his lap, settling on his thigh, ready to view the rest of the pictures with him. Grinning from ear to ear, Tony tousled her hair and resumed browsing through the photos.

When Tony found himself staring at the very first image again, he swapped the memory card for another one and started all over again. By this time Erika had vanished altogether and there were mostly just photos of Megan as she grew and developed. Every time one set of photos came to an end, he would hastily slot another memory card in and start over. Tony watched, with a mixture of awe and something he couldn't quite identify, as Megan changed before his eyes. He saw what must have been her first smile – and even without any teeth he could see that it was just like his own; he saw her eyes change from baby blue to hazel; he saw her transform from a helpless newborn into a plump baby that could lie on her front and then sit up; he saw her being bathed in a large plastic baby bath; he saw her first attempts at eating solid food, with messy consequences; he saw her chewing on toys and teething rings as her first teeth began to poke through her gums; he saw her become mobile, crawling across Madge's lawn and then taking her first tentative steps in Madge's living room; he saw her almost white hair darken to golden blonde; he saw her clutching at books and scribbling across sketchpads; he saw her hair creep down her neck as it grew; he saw her in parks, at the beach, in the snow, in the rain, in the sunshine; he saw her transform from a baby into a toddler; he saw her baby scribbles take shape into actual drawings; he saw hundreds of captured moments between grandmother and granddaughter; he saw the love they shared and the happiness they brought each other and it made Tony happy to see it in such ample evidence.

Tony felt a rush of affection and gratefulness for Madge; he had missed almost four years of Megan's life, yet here it was, stored in all it's glory on these humble chunks of plastic. It wasn't as good as living through it but it came pretty damn close. He found himself wondering if Madge had gone to such lengths to record Megan's childhood on purpose – maybe not for him, exactly – but perhaps for Erika; hoping that her daughter would change her mind and come back to claim Megan. Either way he was glad he had the opportunity to enjoy these memories. He wrapped his arm around Megan's waist, holding her securely against his chest, and slotted another memory card into his laptop.

* * *

Gibbs glowered, his knee popping, as he finally reached Tony's floor. _Why the hell doesn't the landlord get that damned elevator fixed?_ He glared at the 'out of order' sign as he passed the elevator, limping ever so slightly as his knee throbbed from climbing three flights of stairs. Why couldn't DiNozzo live on the ground floor? Or better yet in an apartment block with a working elevator! Shaking his head in irritation, Gibbs unlocked Tony's door and stepped forward. He'd barely gotten through the threshold when his eyes fell upon a stack of boxes by the door. He frowned at them in confusion, stepping further into the room and noticing that there were several more boxes scattered about the room. He closed the door quietly behind him and glanced about for his senior field agent who was nowhere in sight.

"Tony?" he called. There was a yelp of surprise from behind the couch and a moment later Tony popped into view. Gibbs was pleased to see that Tony was holding Megan in his arms.

"You scared me, boss," he said a little breathlessly. He glanced at his watch. "You're outta work kinda early."

"Things were dead at the office," Gibbs said by way of explanation. "What's all this junk?"

"It's not junk, boss, it's Megan's stuff," Tony explained, setting Megan on the couch; who leaned over the back giving Gibbs a big grin and a salute in greeting.

Unable to resist, Gibbs stepped forward and picked Megan up by the armpits, holding her in his arms. He kissed her cheek and felt a grin stretch across his face when she held up a grubby teddy bear for his inspection. "Megan's stuff?" he asked, turning to DiNozzo; bouncing Megan in his arms.

"Yeah, I followed that address Abby gave me, met one of Megan's neighbors, Josephine Murphy, who was Madge's best friend –"

"Madge?"

"Megan's grandmother – anyway, Josephine held onto Megan's things, and a few of her grandmother's – hoping Erika would come back – but since that's not gonna happen she gave them to me," explained Tony.

Gibbs hitched Megan's body higher up his torso, glancing about at the boxes again. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno," said Tony. "Haven't looked through them yet. I guess more of Megan's toys and her clothes and stuff."

Gibbs wandered over to the stack of boxes by the door, pulling open the topmost one and reaching inside. From it he withdrew a small, pink woolen sweater. Peering inside he saw that the box was full with more of Megan's clothes. "Guess this means you can set a room up for her now," Gibbs observed. The look of astonishment of Tony's face was comical. Gibbs smirked. "You do realize she can't sleep in your bed forever, right?"

"Well yeah," said Tony with a small half-hearted chuckle. It was clear from his expression that Tony hadn't thought much on the subject. "Of course I do . . . I just never . . . I mean I . . . I don't have another bed!" The last part was said with an air of concern.

"But you do have a spare room, don't yah?" asked Gibbs, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes . . . but –"

"Well lets take a look at it then," said Gibbs, stuffing the pink sweater back inside the box.

"Now?" said Tony incredulously.

"Did I stutter, DiNozzo? Yes _now!_" Gibbs grunted impatiently, striding towards the hallway. He stopped at the first door on the right and let himself inside.

Gibbs had never seen Tony's spare bedroom before and the moment he stepped over the threshold he understood why; the place was a complete mess. The floor was covered by a threadbare, moss green carpet which was rather filthy, scattered across that was a number of dusty cardboard boxes each one filled with what Gibbs could only describe as junk, in one corner sat a broken piece of exercise equipment but Gibbs couldn't even begin to fathom what it was possibly for, on the opposite side of the room was an old wooden dresser which was chipped and scratched in places and three mismatched dining room chairs, in another corner stood a tall lamp that could easily have been older than DiNozzo, the walls were covered with a shabby, peeling wallpaper, and the solitary window on the wall directly opposite the door was smudged and filthy with a dusty set of blinds hanging precariously from its frame. Gibbs stood frozen for several minutes, staring at the mess in disbelief, then he glanced over his shoulder and glared at Tony who was leaning against the doorjamb looking uneasy. Tony tried to deflect the look with his huge mega watt smile; a move that was unsuccessful.

"What?" he snapped a few minutes later when Gibbs just continued to glare at him.

"When was the last time you cleaned in here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded.

"Errr . . . I'm not sure exactly," Tony hedged, avoiding Gibbs' penetrating gaze.

"I thought you had a maid."

"I do!" Tony cried defensively. "But I kinda figured since I never use this room that it would be pointless for her to clean in here."

"How long has this been like this?"

"Um . . . since I moved in," Tony muttered, a wide nervous smile stretching across his face. "The whole apartment was kinda like this actually when I first moved in, so it took me a while to clean all that up and I had intended to get round to this room eventually . . . but with all the hours we put in I just kept putting it off and putting it off …" Tony trailed off and gestured unnecessarily to all the mess.

"Uh huh," said Gibbs, sweeping another disbelieving look over the room. "The team's supposed to be off rotation this weekend, I can swing by and help you put this place in order; assuming we don't catch a case, that is," Gibbs offered casually.

"Really?" asked Tony brightly, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. "Thanks, boss."

"We can start Friday after work."

"You got it, boss."

Flashing the younger man a brief grin, Gibbs made his way back to the living room. "So, what are yah gonna cook for Ziva tonight?"

"How did you –?" Tony broke off when Gibbs aimed a smug look in his direction. "Stupid question – it's Gibbs I'm talking to," he chuckled. "I thought I'd make her risotto –" he glanced at his watch "– which I should probably get started on if I want it ready by the time she gets here. You gonna stick around, boss?"

Gibbs hid a smile. The main purpose for his visit had been to check that Tony was coping okay on his own. If he was completely honest with himself, Gibbs had been rather anxious about how Tony was getting on; after all this was the first time Tony had been left alone with Megan for an _entire_ day. But if appearances were anything to go by then Tony was doing just fine, more than fine actually, better than Gibbs had predicted. Gibbs was very proud that the younger man was adjusting rather well to his new situation.

"Nah," he said. "I've got some things I gotta do back home," he explained. He had started a little project last night in his basement and he was anxious to finish it before next week. "I just came by to see how you were doing."

"And how am I doing?" Tony asked. His tone was light and teasing, his smile jaunty and carefree but there was a vulnerable look in Tony's eyes; an urgent need of approval. Gibbs had seen that look many times over the years since he'd hired Tony but never before with such intensity as he saw right now. He supposed the reason for that was because this time it wasn't about a crucial clue DiNozzo had discovered, or a perp he'd chased down, this was about the life and wellbeing of his only child. So for once Gibbs decided to give Tony the reassurance he needed.

"Doing a pretty good job, Tony," he said.

Coming from most people that wouldn't be enough, but from a man who barely said 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry' it was huge. Added with the gentle squeeze Gibbs gave the younger man's shoulder and it was the equivalent to a manly hug. And for Tony, someone who soaked up the smallest amount of praise as if it was water and he was a man dying of thirst, Gibbs' simple words and actions were enough to conjure up a magnificent smile that lit up his entire face. Gibbs felt the corner of his mouth twitch. It wasn't unusual to see a huge grin plastered across Tony's lips, however, it _was_ unusual to see a slightly different smile from the superficial one he generally wore at work every day. The one he was wearing now was an honest and genuine reaction to Gibbs' words, it spread all the way to his eyes and made him look years younger and – although Tony probably didn't realize it – it was much more like Megan's smile.

"Thank you, boss," said Tony, still wearing that blinding smile.

Gibbs smiled and patted Tony's shoulder, nodding once before withdrawing his hand. Almost reluctantly, Gibbs passed Megan into Tony's arms who – he was pleased to note – didn't hesitate to take her from him. "You need anything you call me," he said gruffly.

"Will do," Tony replied smartly.

'_I have to go now, sweetheart,'_ Gibbs signed to Megan, feeling a pang of guilt when she looked rather disappointed. He tweaked her nose and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "Try not to keep her up too late, DiNozzo," he couldn't help adding.

"I won't, boss," Tony assured him, replacing his former smile with a teasing one.

"I'll call in again tomorrow," said Gibbs, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

He didn't have to see Tony's face to know the younger man had just rolled his eyes. "I'll look forward to it," he called.

"Oh and, DiNozzo," Gibbs added, halfway out the door.

"Yes, boss?"

"This dinner with Ziva better not be a date, 'cause if I find out otherwise I'll put my boot so far up your ass you'll be spitting leather for a week," he threatened cheerfully. Gibbs bit back a laugh when he saw Tony blanch.

"Of course not, boss!" Tony said hastily, his voice rather higher than usual. "I would never break rule twelve!"

"Good," said Gibbs. And with that he was gone.

* * *

Tony fiddled with his hair nervously as he made his way back into the living room. It was almost six o' clock and the homemade risotto he'd prepared was ready and waiting to be served. He had gone to the trouble of changing into a designer pair of dark grey jeans and a white silk dress shirt. Ziva was due to arrive any minute now and Tony was suffering from a sudden case of nerves. This was all Gibbs' fault for putting the idea in his head that this dinner was a 'date'. To suggest that tonight was about anything other than an apology dinner between friends was a completely ridiculous concept. As if Tony would ever do such a thing. As if he would ever break rule twelve. He and Ziva were just good friends, nothing more. This was definitely _NOT_ a date. _Yeah, so why the hell do I feel so antsy then?_ Damn Gibbs! Tony's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. He drew in a fortifying breath and slowly released it; then as casually as he could manage, Tony strolled towards the front door and pulled it open.

"Hi," he greeted brightly, mega watt grin in place as he cast his eyes over Ziva.

"Hello, Tony," she said, returning his smile. He couldn't help but notice that she had some bruising around her nose and across her cheekbone.

"C'mon in," he said, gesturing with his hand. "You look nice," he added, closing the door. _Why the hell did you say that? _He silently berated himself. _That's the kinda thing you say on a date!_ Tony couldn't help it though; it was true. Ziva must have changed before coming over because Tony very much doubted she would have gone to work wearing a casual black dress with spaghetti straps that did wonders for her curves and showed off an expanse of her long, shapely legs; and the strappy black Patent heels she was wearing certainly weren't regulation. Tony barely resisted the urge to let out a wolf whistle.

"Thank you, Tony, you look very nice yourself," she said with a small saucy smirk, which quickly changed into a frown as she took in all the boxes scattered about the room.

"Ah . . . please excuse the mess, I haven't really got anywhere for this stuff to go right now," he explained sheepishly.

"What is it?" she asked, looking bewildered. Tony quickly explained about his meeting with Josephine. Ziva arched her eyebrows in surprise. "That was very kind of her to keep all this stuff, even though she had no idea if Megan's mother would return for it."

"Yeah well, she cares a lot about Megan," said Tony. "Speak of the devil," he added when Megan came running over, going suddenly shy and hiding behind Tony's leg, clutching Cubby tightly against her chest.

Ziva smiled and gave Megan a small wave. "Hello, Megan," she said, and Tony was stunned to see her signing at the same time. _Was there any language she didn't know?_ "My name is Ziva," she continued, spelling her name out.

Megan peered around Tony's leg, her face split in a huge grin. She glanced up at Tony and then back at Ziva before making the sign for 'thank you'.

"You speak sign language?" asked Tony.

"No, I asked Abby to teach me how to introduce myself, since I realized I hadn't done so before now," Ziva explained.

"Thank you," Tony said with feeling. "That was really sweet of you."

Ziva smiled shyly and glanced at the floor and Tony suddenly became aware of a nervous tension between the two of them. Which was weird because things had never been awkward between them; they were always teasing each other and trading insults, and pushing the boundaries about invading each other's personal space. This . . . this was new, and strange and just . . . not _them!_ And Tony just knew it was all _his_ fault; _he_ had screwed things up – _again_ – _he_ had tampered with the fragile trust that Ziva was slowly rebuilding since the whole Rivkin/Somalia thing! Tony had to fix this and fast before this rift between them destroyed their friendship forever. Screwing up his nerve, Tony took a calming breath and opened his mouth to apologize.

"Ziva I –"

"Tony I –"

They both broke off and stared at each other sheepishly. Apparently Ziva had had the same intention as Tony and they had both chose to do so at the exact same time. At least, Tony hoped that was why Ziva had started speaking.

"Look, Ziva," Tony began hastily, cutting across Ziva just as she opened her mouth to speak. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am. I was out of line – I never should have hit you. I was upset and angry and . . . kind of scared about the whole becoming-a-father thing . . . and I took it out on you and that was wrong. Were partners . . . and more importantly were friends, and as both we should be able to trust each other and I can't expect you to trust me when I . . . do things like hit you. Besides, some of what you said was true –"

"Tony –"

"No let me finish," he cut across her again. "You were right, after . . . after what happened to K-Kate . . . I was kinda out of control for a while . . . I was confused and in pain and I just wanted it to go away! And instead of dealing with it like an adult I chose to find comfort in alcohol and one-night-stands. I was stupid and reckless and I didn't once stop and think about the consequences. I just didn't care . . . and as for Megan's mom . . . she was just some woman I used to help me forget about . . . what happened on that rooftop; about how guilty I felt; about . . . everything!

I can understand why you feel disappointed in me . . . I never should have let things get so out of hand . . . I never should have let a woman I barely knew get pregnant with my child out of wedlock . . . I never should have allowed her to go through all that alone – but, although I regret not being there, I don't regret that it happened because otherwise Megan wouldn't be here right now."

Tony dropped a hand onto Megan's head and rubbed the back of his neck with the other, looking anywhere but Ziva, and wondering if he had perhaps said too much.

"Tony," Ziva said softly, and Tony forced himself to look at her; relieved when he didn't see anger or judgment in her eyes. "I forgive you." Tony swallowed thickly, struggling to keep his emotions in check; he hadn't realized until then just how badly he had needed to hear Ziva say that. "I understand you only hit me because what I said hurt you. I know how much you and the others cared for Kate and I never should have used her as a way to provoke you. I am truly sorry. And you are right, you are my friend and my partner and instead of criticizing you for things that happened in the past I should have been supportive. Grief and pain affects us all in different ways and . . . I too have done stupid and reckless things while grieving . . . so really I have no right to judge you."

"I forgive you too, Ziva," Tony said earnestly. They smiled at each other and Tony felt the tension between them break. "You know we should really eat before our dinner gets cold." However, instead of heading for the kitchen, Tony took a step forward and gave Ziva a quick one-armed hug. When he pulled back, Ziva was grinning at him and looking much more like her usual self. "C'mon," he said, gesturing with his head toward the kitchen before leading the way.

"What are we having?" she asked curiously.

"Risotto, an old DiNozzo family recipe," Tony answered, serving out portions onto three plates.

"Oh, really, what's in it?" Ziva asked, sounding amused.

"Ah, I'm afraid that information is classified," Tony said matter-of-factly. "To reveal such family secrets would unleash the wrath of my forefathers – or in this case, foremothers – and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Ziva laughed loudly in response. "Certainly not," she chuckled. "Here, let me help you," she added a moment later, taking one of the plates and the cutlery into her hands and carrying them over to the couch.

She set them down on the coffee table and took a seat, a moment later she was joined by Tony and Megan. Tony set the remaining two plates on the table and pulled out the pen and notepad from his back pocket which he had taken to carrying around with him. He scrawled a quick note down for Megan – instructing her to pick out a DVD – and tugged her round by the arm so she could see it. She gave him the thumbs up and skipped over to one of the DVD shelves.

"Are you going to have Abby teach you sign language?" asked Ziva, eyeing the notepad curiously.

"Yeah, and Josephine gave me a book on ASL, so that should help me get started," said Tony, watching as Megan selected a DVD and stuck it in the machine.

Tony and Ziva waited until Megan had set the movie playing and was comfortably settled behind the coffee table before they started to eat their meal. Megan had picked out _Shrek_ to watch; one of the few movies Tony owned that was suitable for a three-year-old to watch. It suddenly occurred to Tony that he would have to go out and buy a selection of kid-friendly movies the next time he went shopping. He and Ziva fell into a companionable silence, dispersed by intervals of laughter as they sat back and enjoyed the DVD.

"I can't believe I've never seen this before," said Ziva through a fit of laughter, as the character Donkey tried to talk his way out of getting eaten by the dragon.

"You've never seen Shrek before?" Tony said incredulously. "How can you have lived in this country all these years and not see Shrek? There's like three sequels! _And_ a Christmas special!"

"Well, excuse me if I have better things to do with my time than to watch kid movies," Ziva replied without heat.

"You like 'the Sound of Music'!"

"That's different," Ziva said defensively. "I actually _was_ a child the first time I saw that!"

"That does it, next time we get the chance we're having a Shrek marathon," Tony declared. "You'd love the second movie; it introduces this character called Puss In Boots who is a swashbuckling, talking cat who wears a hat and boots (obviously) who knows his way around a sword. He's kinda like this Zorro-like character which isn't surprising since he's voiced by Antonio Banderas …"

"Tony, shush! We're missing the movie," Ziva hushed in amusement.

"Sorry," Tony whispered with a smirk. "But we're still having a marathon," he added stubbornly.

"Sssshhh!" hissed Ziva, pressing an index finger to her lips.

"Okay, miss bossy," muttered Tony. "OW!" he cried, as Ziva lightly swatted him on the arm.

Shortly after Tony had finally settled down, Megan abandoned her half-eaten dinner – apparently she wasn't a fan of risotto – and crawled onto the couch, curling up at Tony's side; much like she had done with Gibbs a couple of nights ago. He felt a swell of affection for her as she burrowed under his arm and leaned her whole body against his side, laying her head on his chest. Smiling to himself, Tony wrapped a protective arm around her small frame and gave a gentle squeeze; unaware of the soft smile Ziva was giving him as he did so.

Ziva stuck around until the movie finished and a short while after to help Tony clean up in the kitchen. Eventually though, as Megan's head began to droop drowsily, Ziva decided it was time to bid them both a goodnight. Tony walked her to the door and watched until she disappeared down the staircase – very conscious of how his actions could be misconstrued as date-like behavior, once again he silently cursed Gibbs for putting the idea in his head in the first place. Closing the door, Tony turned back to find Megan staring at him tiredly from where she was leaning over the back of the couch.

"Whaddaya say we call it an early night?" he said, smiling at her.

He wrote her a brief note which simply read _'bedtime'_; pleased when she didn't make any protests. He moved around the room, switching off lights and the TV before lifting Megan – along with Cubby – into his arms and carrying her towards his bedroom, leaving the living room in darkness. He stopped off at the bathroom, hanging back in the hall while Megan relieved herself. He then set her on the bathroom counter and encouraged her to brush her teeth – with her recently reacquired toothbrush and kids' toothpaste – while he did the same. When their breath was minty fresh they headed for the bedroom. From Megan's suitcase Tony took out a set of yellow pajamas with cartoon monkeys printed all over the top and bottoms. Megan must have been happy with his choice because she didn't make any objections when he helped her change into them; either that or she was too tired to care. Tony pulled back the covers and helped Megan crawl under them. He swapped his jeans for a pair of sweatpants and removed his shirt, leaving him in a sleeveless undershirt. He dumped the clothes in the laundry basket and climbed into bed, switching off the lamp as he went. No sooner had he laid down then Megan crawled towards him, curling up at his side like she had on the couch and using his chest as a pillow. In response Tony wrapped an arm around her. He smiled in surprise when Megan grasped his other hand, which was draped across his stomach, and wrapped her whole hand around his index finger. He lay there for some time, perfectly relaxed, listening as Megan's breathing evened out as she finally succumbed to sleep. He stayed up a while longer, carding his fingers through her hair, just enjoying the comfort he felt at having her close by. At last he too fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Hey, I'm back at last. First off, WOW! I can't believe the attention this story has received; it blows my mind that so many people like this story. So thank you everyone who has read and reviewed, I can't tell you how much it means to me, and you wouldn't believe how excited I get when I see I've gotten a new review. Secondly, I hope you will be able to appreciate the irony when Tony says in this chapter that he would never break rule twelve. I've been watching season 8 with ever growing hatred for the one who calls herself E.J. Barrett – doesn't she and this Ray person realize their ruining our chances of ever getting a real TIVA moment? I'm sorry to anyone who is a fan of these two new characters but I can't help how I feel and as Abby once said "Never question the gut." Which of course is a reference to Gibbs and his uncanny instincts._

_Also, I'm sure there are many people out there who will be very happy that I _finally _resolved the Tony/Ziva issue. And since so many of you have asked, I'm going to put it down in writing so we're all clear. Although I am a fan of TIVA this is Not a TIVA story, my main focus is Tony and his developing relationship with Megan. In the future I may develop that theme in a sequel but for right now this is all about learning to fill the shoes of a father. _

_Kind regards, All Hail Hufflepuff_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The next day began with Megan belly-flopping onto Tony's midriff. Tony couldn't be sure if she had tried rousing him with a more gentle method, without his noticing, forcing her to revert to more _extreme_ measures or if she was merely practicing some kind of wrestling move on him; either way it would not make his Top ten list of favorite ways to wake up. Later, once he had stopped gasping and spluttering like a freshly caught fish, he would give thanks that Megan hadn't pounced any lower down, otherwise he may well have folded like a cheap deckchair. With Megan's laughter ringing in the hallway, Tony flopped out of bed, quite literally. Clutching his stomach, he rolled over – uncaring that he was at the edge of the mattress – and just allowed gravity to pull him to the floor with a soft _Flump._ He let out a low groan and hugged his throbbing stomach. He really hoped Megan wouldn't make this kind of wakeup call a regular occurrence; he might end up with internal bleeding if she did! _Oooooooooooooohhh,_ he thought, groaning again. His ears pricked up at the light pitter-patter of Megan's footsteps and a moment later her little bare feet appeared in his line of vision. Tony made no move to get up, still not fully recovered from having an almost-four-year-old fling her whole body on top of his unsuspecting belly. Megan wiggled her toes and giggled.

She got down and sprawled out on the floor next to him, laying her head inches away from his own. Tony tried giving her the evil eye but it was pretty hard to maintain when she was looking at him with such a happy and mischievous expression on her face. In spite of himself, Tony smiled. Seeing this, Megan sat up and began to push and shove at Tony's shoulder until he reluctantly rolled over onto his back. He jumped in surprise when Megan grabbed the hem of his undershirt and yanked it up and out of the way, baring his stomach and lower chest to her view. Tony tilted his head off the floor to see what on earth she was up to.

"Yeouch!" he cried, when Megan gave his stomach a sharp poke. The pain wasn't as bad as it had been, it was more like a dull ache, but that didn't mean he appreciated being poked and prodded by little fingers. Before Tony could make any real complaint, he felt his eyebrows arch in surprise when Megan started to tenderly rub his sore spot. Tony was torn between being touched by such a sweet gesture and embarrassed that he was having his belly rubbed like a dog. "OW!" he cried a moment later when Megan yanked on some of his chest hair. He grabbed her wrists and slowly sat up. "Okay, let's just stop yah there. We don't tug on Daddy's …" Tony trailed off, a look of surprise on his face, as he realized he'd just used the D-word.

Tony went very still and stared at Megan who stared right back. He was amazed how easily the word had rolled off his tongue; almost as if he said it every day. Given how he had felt about all this when he had discovered Megan at his doorstep, Tony had expected it to take much longer for the word 'Daddy' to enter his vocabulary but apparently that wasn't the case. He only wished Megan had heard him say it. Tony gave himself a mental shake. _No use thinking about that,_ he thought, pulling a wide grin onto his face and using the bed to help him stand. Megan scampered along ahead as Tony headed towards the main living area. He found her hopping about in the kitchen, so he picked her up by the armpits and held her up so she could open the cupboard and pick out a box of cereal; today it was Lucky Charms again. A few minutes later, Tony sat sedately on the couch munching on his cereal, watching Megan as she sat cross-legged on his coffee table, slurping Lucky Charms and watching _Dora the Explorer_ on TV. He was feeling rather tired and sluggish this morning and the reason for that was sitting in front of him. Megan had woken from yet another nightmare last night and although Tony had managed to stop her crying, and settled her back to sleep without much fuss, he had lain awake for hours afterwards until exhaustion finally got the better of his restless mind. He couldn't help but be troubled by these nightmares. He thought he might know what they were about but he hoped to God that he was wrong. Problem was there was no way to know for sure unless he did a little digging. Which is why, after breakfast, Tony retreated to his bedroom with his cell phone and made a call.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Josephine, it's Tony," he greeted awkwardly.

"_Tony dear,"_ she exclaimed happily. _"I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Is everything alright?"_

"Yeah, everything's fine," said Tony, pacing back and forth in front of the bed. "I just . . . I just wanted to ask you some questions."

"_What sort of questions?"_ Josephine asked curiously.

Tony hesitated. "Er . . . Megan's . . . kind of been having these bad dreams, and I was wondering . . . I mean . . . did she . . . what happened when Madge died?" There was silence on the other end of the line. "Josephine?"

"_Yes, I'm still here, Tony,"_ she responded quietly. He heard her take a deep breath. _"I was away that weekend . . . visiting my sister in Maryland,"_ she explained, almost apologetically._ "I didn't get back until late Sunday afternoon. The doctors told us . . . told us she must have died early that morning . . . not long after she woke up."_

Stomach clenching with dread, Tony stopped pacing. He ran a hand through his hair and glared up at the ceiling. "Megan found her . . . didn't she?"

He heard Josephine take a shuddering breath. _"Yes …"_ she whispered.

Tony screwed his eyes shut and fisted his hand in his hair. Even though he had suspected as much, it was still hard to hear someone confirm it. It felt like he'd been punched in the chest and for several minutes, Tony forgot how to breathe.

"_When I got back, I noticed the mail hadn't been taken in, so I went to take it to her – I should have suspected something was wrong but …" _her voice trailed away for a moment and Tony could hear her taking several more deep breaths as she tried to compose herself. _"I let myself in the house with my spare key, like I always do. I called out a few times but didn't get a response – and I _still_ wasn't concerned; I just thought she was out or something. Then I walked into the kitchen and found them; Madge was sprawled out on the floor, holding a broken coffee cup in her hand . . . and Megan was curled up beside her, fast asleep."_

Tony collapsed onto his bed, cradling his head with his free hand whilst clutching the cell phone to his ear with the other. "H-how . . . how was she when you err . . . you know . . . when she woke up?"

"_Upset . . . confused," _Josephine said sadly. _"Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry! I should have been there – if I had then –!"_

"It wasn't your fault," he cut across her. "You couldn't have known. No-one could have. I just wish . . . she shouldn't have had to go through that alone ..." _I should have been there for her,_ he added silently. "Thanks for telling me, Josephine."

"_Are you going to be alright, dear?"_ she asked anxiously. _"You know if you need me to do anything all you have to do is ask."_

"Thank you, Josephine, but that won't be necessary; I think this is something I have to handle by myself." _God knows how I'm going to do that though,_ he thought miserably.

"_Are you sure?"_ she asked.

_No not really._ "Yes I'm sure," he lied. "And if I need you, I'll call I promise."

"_Alright . . . I need to go now, dear, Andrew wants his breakfast. You take care now."_

"Okay, I will. Bye, Josephine."

"_Goodbye, Tony. Give Megan a kiss for me."_

"Okay." Tony hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together, letting his chin settle upon them. He sat like that for several minutes, staring off into space, trying to sort through his jumbled thoughts.

Tony was taken aback by just how much it hurt him to know Megan had gone through an experience like that. He also felt incredibly guilty. Yes, logically he knew it wasn't his fault – since he hadn't even been aware of Megan's existence when all this happened – but he couldn't help but put some of the blame onto himself. Perhaps if things had been different, if he had been the kind of guy a woman could come to and admit she was pregnant then maybe, just maybe, he would have been there for Megan from the very beginning and she never would have gone through all that. He got up and started pacing again, a little slower than before. He could sit around all day contemplating all the 'what-ifs' and imagine how things could have been different if he'd only _known_ but it wouldn't fix anything or change what had already happened. No, the important thing now was to figure out how he was going to stop Megan from having these nightmares.

"But how the hell do I do that?" he thought aloud.

He needed some time to clear his head, so he grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. Tony let his mind go blank as the water cascaded onto his head and shoulders. He would have liked to stay under the hot spray until all the tension drained completely from his body, but it wasn't long before he felt the anxious flutter in the pit of his stomach as he began to worry about Megan being left alone and unsupervised in the living room. He switched off the water, stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and started drying himself. By the time he had changed into a pair of faded jeans and dark grey long-sleeved t-shirt he had already formulated a rough plan in his head. He had no idea if it would actually work, but it was worth a try. With a determined nod at his reflection, Tony made his way back to the living room.

"Agh!" he squawked, stopping in his tracks and taking in the scene before him.

It seemed that while he'd been gone Megan had taken it upon herself to empty the contents of every cardboard box labeled 'toys' and now there was toys scattered all over his living room floor. Tony gazed about at the mess with his mouth hanging open. _How long was I gone for?_ Megan peered up at him from where she was playing with a group of plastic farm animals, an expression of blissful innocence on her face. It was almost as if she was saying 'I have no idea who made this mess but look at these lovely farm animals I found.' _Oh boy, with a poker face like that we're definitely going to have issues when she becomes a teenager,_ Tony thought with a twinge of trepidation. He held out his arms and gestured at her to come towards him. Megan obediently climbed to her feet and tip-toed through the mess, when she was in arms reach Tony picked her up and set her on the floor next to him.

"Who made this mess?" he asked sternly, gesturing at the chaos with his hands since his pen and notepad were on the opposite side of the room; he only hoped Megan would understand what he was trying to ask.

Apparently she got the message because she glanced at the mess as if seeing it for the first time and then threw her arms into the air in the universal sign for 'I don't know'. Tony crouched over until he was more or less eye level with her and pulled on his best 'skeptical' face. Megan folded her arms and stared back, trying to imitate his expression. They remained like that for several minutes before Tony admitted defeat and rose to his full height.

"We'll deal with this later," he said, taking Megan's hand and leading her towards his bedroom. "Right now we have somewhere to be and you need to get dressed before we can go."

Unfortunately, Megan had other ideas. With the knowledge that her possessions were just down the hall – meaning she had more options to choose from – Megan decided that there wasn't _anything_ packed in her suitcase that she wanted to wear. She just stood next to the bed with her arms folded and shook her head over and over again; refusing to even set eyes on the suitcase let alone pick any clothes out of it. When Tony tried to select an outfit for her, Megan frowned, stuck out her bottom lip and began to breathe very quickly through her nose; reminding Tony of an angry bull about to charge. Fearing she was about to have a tantrum, Tony threw down the offending items of clothing and hastily led her back to the living room. He had no idea how to handle a tantrum and he had no desire to learn how to do so while Gibbs and Abby were at work and unable to come to his rescue. So, begrudgingly Tony cleared a path through the toys which littered his floor and got down the boxes labeled 'clothes'. While Megan took her time selecting an outfit to wear, Tony came to the conclusion that Megan's obsession with her attire was probably a trait she had inherited from him; right now he couldn't quite decide if that was good or bad thing. Eventually she settled on a rainbow colored tie-dyed t-shirt which looked homemade, a pair of lime green cotton shorts, bright yellow socks with thin black stripes and a bright purple zip up hoodie. The only thing Tony was allowed to pick out was a fresh pair of underwear; he got the distinct impression that Megan really didn't care what her underwear looked liked since they weren't on display like the rest of her clothes.

Once that was all sorted out it was fairly easy to get Megan dressed. Of course, then came the matter of which shoes she was going to wear because apparently the ones she'd been wearing the past few days were no longer good enough. When Tony opened the box labeled 'shoes' he was alarmed by just how many pairs the box actually contained. There had to be twenty pairs at least! Surely that was a little excessive for someone so young?

"Dear God. You're not even four years old yet and already you have an unhealthy obsession with shoes!" he muttered, staring at all the tiny sets of shoes in astonishment. "You know what this means, don't you?" he thought aloud. "We're gonna need a bigger wardrobe!"

He couldn't help but chuckle a little as he paid tribute to his favorite quote from the movie _Jaws_. After what felt like hours but was in fact only a few minutes Megan pulled on a pair of pink sneakers with Velcro straps. Hiding his relief, Tony led her to the bathroom. He had just closed the door behind him so she could do her business in private, when he heard an odd noise, reluctantly he peeked inside and to his horror discovered Megan with her arms braced against the toilet seat, her bare butt in the air and her head almost in the bowl! He didn't have time to feel embarrassed; he just rushed inside and grabbed her before she could give herself a swirlie. He sat her down in the correct position and felt a rush of shame wash over him as it occurred to him for the first time that Megan was too short to actually reach the toilet; she must have been clambering onto it the whole time she'd been staying with him. That was something he would have to fix and fast! Having seen Abby do it a few times before, Tony made the sign for 'sorry'. Megan gave him a funny look when he did this and for a second he wondered if he had done it wrong but then he figured she might feel a bit awkward with him standing over her when she was basically naked from the waist down. Suddenly the embarrassment was back with a vengeance and Tony spun around and marched back to the door but didn't go through it; feeling slightly jumpy about leaving her alone again. Fortunately, Megan didn't seem too bothered by his presence as she immediately went ahead and relieved herself. When he heard the toilet flush, Tony turned back, lifted Megan off the seat before she could climb down and set her back on the floor. After that, they brushed their teeth as if nothing odd had occurred – while Tony mentally kicked himself for letting it happen in the first place.

Back in the living room, Tony made the lazy decision to clean up the toys when they got back. He forged a path through the chaos so he could grab his pen and notepad and also Madge's camera – which he had charged up yesterday for just such an opportunity – and then ushered Megan towards the door. A few seconds later he burst back into the apartment and ran to his bedroom, appearing moments later with Cubby clutched in his hand. He handed the teddy bear to Megan, waved her into the corridor and locked the front door behind him.

* * *

(Set a few hours before Megan and Tony woke up)

McGee glanced up when he heard the elevator _ding_, smirking slightly as he watched Ziva step off with a bright, cheerful expression on her face. _Oh this is gonna be good,_ he thought smugly as she rounded the partition and stepped up to her desk.

"Good morning, Ziva," he greeted pleasantly.

"Morning, McGee," she returned brightly, saluting him with the cup of coffee he had left on her desk.

He took a sip from his own coffee and picked a few sprinkles off his donut, giving Ziva time to settle in before he brought up the subject that so amused him.

"So . . ." he began casually, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile. "How was your date with Tony last night?"

McGee bit back a laugh as Ziva's head snapped up; a startled expression on her face.

"How did you –?" she broke off, a sharp expression appearing on her features. "Abby!" she hissed, irritably.

"Uh huh," replied McGee, grinning from ear to ear. "So, did you guys have _fun_?" he asked, his tone dripping with innuendo.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "When did you become DiNozzo?" she asked. McGee looked appropriately insulted. "And for your information, McGee, it was _not_ a date," she stated firmly.

"Oh _really_?" McGee said sarcastically.

"Yes, really. Last night was just dinner between friends. It was also an opportunity for us to soothe things over," said Ziva, powering up her computer.

"Smooth," McGee said automatically.

"What?" Ziva asked, looking up in confusion.

"I think you mean 'smooth things over'," he explained.

"Oh, yes . . . that too," she said, turning back to her computer.

McGee rolled his eyes. "So you guys okay then? No more fighting?"

"I'm sure Tony and myself will always find reasons to argue with each other, but yes, McGee, we are okay," she assured him, looking up with a small smile.

"Well that's good to hear, Ziva. I'm proud of you guys," said McGee, genuinely pleased that his friends had patched things up.

The clomping footsteps of black, leather platform boots signified the arrival of Abby as she traipsed her way into the bullpen. She was wearing a chipper, eager expression on her face as she made a beeline for Ziva's desk.

"Hey! How'd your date go last night?" she asked excitedly. "Did you guys make up?"

"Abby!" Ziva exclaimed irritably. "It _wasn't_ a date!"

"Oh . . . I guess I shouldn't have sent that email to everyone in the building stating that you two are now an item, huh?" she asked awkwardly.

"_What?_" Ziva yelped, looking horrorstricken.

McGee stifled a snigger.

"Just kidding," said Abby, laughing at Ziva's furious expression. "So did you guys make up or what?" she persisted.

Ziva was still giving Abby the evil eye when she answered. "Yes, Abby, Tony and I talked and worked things out."

"Oh I'm so happy for you guys," Abby gushed, clapping her hands together in delight. "What did he cook for you?" she asked, perching on the edge of Tony's desk.

McGee rolled his eyes. _Oh God,_ he thought with a grimace, _girl talk. Wait, did she say cook?_ He glanced over at Abby, his brow wrinkled in a small frown.

"He made me risotto – an old family recipe, apparently – and it was surprisingly good," explained Ziva, leaning forward in her seat and taking a sip of her coffee.

"Ooh, I love his risotto but you have to get him to make you his famous spaghetti and meatballs; it rocks! I swear it's like the best spa–"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Tony knows how to cook?" McGee asked incredulously.

Abby stared at him as if he'd grown a third eye on his forehead. "Duh, McGee," she said, in a tone that suggested that this was a well known fact.

"_Our_ Tony?" he said, convinced the pair of them were pulling his leg because there was no way they could be describing Tony DiNozzo, junk-food-junky extraordinaire.

"Why is that so difficult for you to believe, McGee?" Ziva asked curiously.

"Well, because . . . it's – _Tony!_" said McGee, struggling to explain himself. "He's always ordering takeout!"

"That's just because it's convenient, not because he can't cook," scoffed Abby.

"Well . . . he's never cooked for me," he said, cursing himself for the slightly petulant tone that leaked into his voice.

Abby and Ziva shared a look across the bullpen. "Are you jealous, McGee?" Ziva asked, with a chuckle.

"No!" snapped McGee, wincing inwardly when his voice came out sounding high and defensive.

"Aww, Timmy, you totally are, aren't you," said Abby, sounding very much like she was trying very hard to hold back her amusement. "I'm sure if you just asked him –"

"I'm not jealous, Abby!" McGee snapped hotly.

"Not jealous of who, McGee?" asked the gruff voice of Gibbs as he marched into the bullpen, the ever present cup of coffee clutched in his hand.

McGee jumped so hard he almost toppled out of his chair. He shot an annoyed glare in Abby's direction when he heard her stifle a giggle. "Nobody, boss," he said, hoping the lead agent would let the subject drop.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, McGee," Abby said bracingly, ignoring the panicked look McGee aimed in her direction. "Gibbs doesn't care that you're jealous of Ziva because Tony cooked for her on their date last night."

"Abby, for the last time _it was NOT a date!_" Ziva hissed from across the bullpen.

Abby just grinned broadly; completely unfazed by the death glares she was receiving from both Ziva and McGee.

"Don't listen to her, boss, I'm not jealous – I mean why would I be? It's ridiculous …" McGee broke off, noticing that he was getting that look from Gibbs – the same one he got anytime he started babbling on in 'Geek-speak' as the others called it. "I'll just shut up now and get on with some work, boss."

"You do that, Tim," said Gibbs with an exasperated roll of his eyes. He turned to look at Ziva.

"Gibbs, it wasn't a date!" she assured him hastily.

"I know that," he replied casually.

"You do?" Ziva asked in a tone of surprise.

"Well yeah, Ziver, how many people do you know who have dates with a three-year-old chaperone?" he deadpanned.

Ziva smiled in relief. "You make a good point, Gibbs."

Gibbs' gaze was fixed to his computer when he continued. "And if anything ever did happen between you two, I'm sure you know that I would have no choice but to reassign one of you; I hear Hank is looking for an assistant," he said in a calm, neutral tone.

Ziva stared at Gibbs in alarm. "Hank? Who is Hank?" she asked in confusion.

Abby giggled. "He's the night janitor," she explained cheerfully.

Ziva stared at Abby with her mouth slightly open, before slowly turning back to her computer screen.

"Abs," said Gibbs, after a few moments of silence. "Don't you have work to do?"

"No, why do you think I came up here? I'm so bored!" she exclaimed, heaving a huge dramatic sigh. "Seriously, why haven't you guys caught a case yet? Did someone declare world peace and forget to send me the memo?"

"Abs, it sounds to me like you're hoping for some poor marine to drop down dead somewhere just so you can have something to do," said Gibbs arching an eyebrow.

"Well . . . when you put it like that it sounds really morbid but . . . yeah!"

Gibbs shook his head, a small smirk playing about his mouth.

"I wish Tony was here," Abby sighed, glancing sadly at Tony's chair. "It's so boring without him here."

McGee just barely stopped himself from nodding in agreement. Although he heartily concurred with Abby's assessment, the last thing he needed was to give her more ammo so she could continue teasing him about his so-called 'jealously' over Ziva's evening with Tony.

"I wonder how Tony is getting along with Megan all by himself," Abby mused, redirecting her gaze out the window. "I hope he's okay."

"He'll be fine, Abs," said Gibbs matter-of-factly, never once looking up from his computer.

Abby just heaved another sigh and continued to stare out the window.

* * *

Tony glanced over his shoulder, a smile on his lips, watching Megan as she clapped in delight. He had brought them to the East Potomac Park and had just pulled the car over in a parking lot opposite the large playground. Grabbing his camera from the passenger seat and looping the strap around his neck, Tony got out of the car and went round to Megan's side. It took him a few minutes to get her out of her car seat on account she was squirming so much. When he finally did get her free he grabbed her before she could jump out and carefully lowered her to the ground. He locked the car, took Megan by the hand and set off towards the playground; Megan bouncing along at his side the whole way there. When they reached the grass which preceded the playground Megan took off – giving Tony the distinct impression he was slowing her down – and made a beeline for the Jungle gym. The Italian watched in amusement as the little girl scrambled up the Jungle gym and then a few minutes later came whizzing back down on the slide with a huge grin lighting her face.

There was about a dozen or so more kids running around, screaming and playing besides Megan, their mothers and nannies scattered about in small groups occupying park benches and picnic tables. As Tony made his way towards Megan, switching his camera on as he did so, he was aware of many sets of eyes following his every move; feeling suddenly self-conscious, Tony realized he was the only guy around for miles. Trying to ignore the sensation of being watched, Tony focused instead on Megan who was taking a second trip down the slide. This time she slid all the way off and landed on the ground with a soft _thump_, she let out a peal of laughter as if it was the funniest thing in the world before climbing happily to her feet. Tony crouched down, pointing the camera at her. To his delight Megan looked straight into the lens and gave him a beautiful megawatt smile, without hesitating Tony snapped the shot. With that, Megan climbed her way back up the slide. Tony followed her around as she explored, taking photo after photo which Megan seemed only too happy to pose for. He'd never been much into photography – taking crime scene photos didn't count, it was simply part of his job and not one he took particular enjoyment in – and even though he had no problem having his own photograph taken, that was more down to vanity than anything else. However, with Megan for inspiration, Tony suddenly found himself trying very hard to capture images that were at least half as good as the ones Madge had taken and perhaps it was because the three-year-old associated the camera with her grandmother or maybe she was just a tiny bit vain like her father but Megan really lapped up the attention she was receiving. She really seemed to enjoy having her photograph taken probably almost as much as Tony enjoyed taking them.

Unfortunately, the experience was tainted slightly by the fact that Tony was still being closely scrutinized. More than once he glanced up and caught one or more of the mothers eying him with unguarded suspicion. As time went on Tony began to get more and more annoyed with the way they were acting toward him. Was it really such a crime for a single father to bring his kid to the playground and take pictures of her while she played? Tony, a little startled, paused as this thought crossed his mind. It was the first time he had actually considered himself as a 'single parent' and to his surprise he discovered that the idea didn't fill him with mind-numbing fear. Oh sure, he still had his doubts and worries about whether or not he was capable of pulling this off, but he was determined to do everything in his power to make it work.

They stayed at the playground for about an hour or so before Tony decided they should explore the rest of the park. At first Megan was content to hold Tony's hand and walk at his side; at least she was until she saw a butterfly flutter past. Detaching herself from Tony she ran off in pursuit, her face alight with innocent joy. Unable to resist, Tony took a few more photos, fascinated by Megan's reaction. After ten minutes of harmlessly leaping into the air and following the butterfly around, Megan somehow managed to get the insect to perch on her finger; Tony was afraid she might hurt it but she was perfectly gentle, holding the butterfly aloft almost reverently, staring at it in wonder. Tony kneeled down and snapped a photo just moments before the butterfly took off again. Megan watched as it slowly spiraled into the air and vanished through the tree canopy above them. For the next half hour the pair of them meandered along the path, pausing occasionally when something innocuous such as a stone, a leaf, or a ladybug struck Megan's interest.

"Well that was fun," Tony declared, as he strapped Megan into her car seat. "How 'bout you and me do some grocery shopping before we go home?"

Along the way to the supermarket Tony stopped off at a small furniture store that caught his eye and spent ten minutes searching for what he wanted; a pink, wooden step-stool for Megan to use in the bathroom. Grocery shopping turned out to be quite an experience; Tony had never used the kiddy-seat in the shopping cart before, or had anyone turn their nose up at the food he picked out, or point at the food they'd rather have instead and then try to eat that food before it was even paid for. As well as picking up all the essentials that would keep Megan and himself fed and watered for a week at least, Tony threw a few kid-friendly DVDs in the cart along with a SpongeBob Squarepants Sippy-cup. He was just on his way to the cash register when he heard someone call his name.

"Tony?" said a vaguely familiar voice.

_Shit, _thought Tony, freezing on the spot. _Please don't be an old girlfriend. Please oh please don't be an old girlfriend, please, please, please!_ Slowly, Tony turned around, bracing himself to duck.

"Lucy!" he said, his tone a mixture of surprise and relief as he set eyes on the young woman. Lucy Goldman, a pretty brunette with stunning blue eyes and a great figure, was engaged to Tony's fraternity brother Steve Adler. The couple had been dating for about three years and Steve had finally proposed just last month; and to Tony's amazement, Steve had asked _him_ to be best man. "Hi," said Tony cheerfully.

"Hi," she said. There was an awkward moment where they couldn't decide if they should hug, shake hands, or do neither. It was Lucy who finally took charge of the situation and stepped forward to envelop Tony in a (thankfully) brief, yet uncomfortable, embrace. When she pulled back she was wearing a slightly self-conscious smile. "Wow," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I had no idea you had a daughter." She peered around Tony and smiled at the little girl sitting in the cart.

Tony blanched. "Ah . . . yeah," he glanced over his shoulder at Megan, "neither did I until a few days ago," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Lucy stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?" she asked. Tony nodded. He would have found her expression of wide-eyed astonishment comical if they hadn't been discussing his personal life. "Does Steve know?"

"No . . . not yet," said Tony. "It's kinda been a lot to process, I haven't had much time to think about telling anyone."

"Yeah, I get that. Suddenly becoming a father, that's a big change," Lucy said sympathetically. She stepped to the side so she had a better view of Megan. "She sure is a pretty little thing, isn't she? What's your name, sweetie?" This last question was directed at Megan.

"Oh . . . uh, that's the other thing . . . um . . . she's deaf," said Tony. "Her name is Megan."

"Deaf?" said Lucy, again in a tone of surprise. "You mean she can't –?" Tony shook his head. "At all?"

"No, afraid not."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. What about her mother, is she –?"

"No longer in the picture," Tony interrupted.

"And you're taking care of her, all by yourself?" she asked, sounding rather amazed. Tony nodded, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. "Wow, that's really good of you, Tony."

Tony couldn't help but be slightly annoyed by this statement. She made it sound like he was doing some kind of service simply because he was taking responsibility for his child who just happened to have a slight disadvantage.

"Yeah, well I should pay for this stuff and head home. Megan will be getting hungry," he said, by way of excusing himself.

"Yeah, of course, I have some more things I need to pick up myself. It was good seeing you again," said Lucy, holding out her hand to shake, which Tony did; albeit reluctantly. "Good luck," she added, in an infuriatingly sympathetic tone, squeezing his arm with her other hand and making it sound like he was taking on some huge burden.

Tony ground his teeth and forced a smile onto his face. "Thanks," he said, setting off for the cash register again. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Lucy turned the corner at the end of the aisle and then disappeared. He turned back to Megan and muttered in an undertone: "You know, up until now, I kinda liked Steve's choice of wife, but now I'm not so sure."

Megan, totally oblivious to his words, stared up at him with her big eyes, all the while trying to tear open a packet of Oreo cookies with her teeth. Tony took the cookies off her and placed them back in the cart, smirking when Megan made a small sound of protest. He ruffled her hair affectionately.

"C'mon, kiddo, lets get out of here," he said, as he searched for a cash register that wasn't too crowded.

* * *

Tony panted slightly as he climbed the second staircase that led to his apartment. In his arms he carried three bulging grocery bags, which not only weighed him down as he trudged up these dammed stairs, but also obscured his view of where he was actually stepping! The plan had been to get all the groceries up to the apartment in one trip, so Tony had emptied half of the contents of one bag into the three others – so that they were fit to bursting – and then handed the half empty bag to Megan before grabbing himself an armful of groceries. Now he was seriously regretting his decision. Hell, making two trips up here surely would have been better than this. Every step was becoming an effort, his arms were beginning to ache and there was the constant fear that one of the bags might split at any second, spilling all of his food down the stairs, there was also the very great possibility that he might misjudge his footing and take a tumble himself. Megan was just ahead of him, climbing each step with deliberate care as she cradled her small burden securely against her chest. Megan also carried with her Cubby the bear who was stuffed inside the grocery bag for the time being and the camera which was slung over her head and shoulder like a purse. After what felt like an age, Tony reached his front door but before he had time to feel relieved he found himself faced with yet another dilemma; how did he get his keys out of his pocket when his arms were full?

"Definitely didn't think this through," he wheezed, glancing up and down the corridor hoping in vain he might spot a neighbor who could help. "Dammit!" he said, slowly and awkwardly lowering himself to the ground where he carefully set the grocery bags on the floor outside his door.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Tony stood back up and pulled his keys out of his pocket and let himself into the apartment. After putting away the groceries, Tony made them some macaroni and cheese for lunch, when they were finished eating he decided to tackle the mess of toys cluttering up his living room floor. His endeavors to clean up were hindered by Megan, who kept pulling out the toys which Tony had already tidied away. Eventually they compromised by leaving out a few toys for Megan to play with while the rest were packed back into their boxes. Tony had just settled onto the couch with the large sign language dictionary Josephine had given him open on his lap, when he heard the buzz of the doorbell go off. He dropped his head onto the back of the couch and let out a heavy sigh.

"Now what?" he demanded to no-one in particular.

The doorbell buzzed again and was immediately followed by loud, rapid knocking. Someone certainly was eager to be inside. Grumbling under his breath, Tony got to his feet and went to answer the door.

"Steve!" he exclaimed in surprise, finding his old friend and fraternity brother standing on his threshold with a huge, stupid grin splitting his face. "How did you –? What are you –?"

"Oh come on, you didn't really think my fiancé would keep something as big as _you_ having a _kid_ to herself, did you?" Steve asked incredulously, beaming at him with his annoying, boyish grin. "Where is she? Can I see her?" he added excitedly, leaning from side to side trying to catch a glimpse of Megan.

Steve Adler was roughly six foot tall, lean and athletic with boyish good looks, short blonde hair and twinkling light blue eyes. He was currently dressed in an expensive dark grey pinstriped Armani suit with a light grey shirt and a black skinny tie. He also happened to be holding a black leather briefcase in his hand.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" asked Tony, still a little thrown by his best friend's sudden appearance.

"Dude, I'm a partner in my own law firm, I'm entitled to take a long lunch break every now and then," Steve replied nonchalantly, shoving his way past Tony and strolling into the apartment. Tony rolled his eyes and closed the door.

Steve made a beeline towards Megan who was sitting on the floor, playing with a brightly colored toy caterpillar which had wheels instead of legs. "Hi!" he said exuberantly when Megan glanced up at him. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, set his briefcase on the kitchen counter and crouched down in front of her, a huge, cheerful grin on his face. "Can I pick her up?"

"She's not a dog, Steve!" Tony said, exasperated.

"I know," said Steve, picking her up anyway. "So this is Megan," he said, standing up and bouncing Megan in his arms. "She's a cutie-pie . . . you sure she's yours?"

Tony gave a loud, fake laugh. "Really you missed your calling, Stevo, you shoulda gone into standup instead of becoming a lawyer," he said sarcastically.

Steve's only response was a wide unrepentant smile. "So, who's the mom? No wait! Don't tell me . . . it's . . . what was that girl's name again? Charlotte? No, Courtney? Yeah that's it, Courtney. Oh no, no wait it's Lisa isn't it? I remember you telling me she was blonde. Or how about Jessica? Cindy? Mona? Oh, I know it's . . . oh, what was her name? You know the one who filled your closet with dog crap?"

Tony folded his arms and stared at his friend. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he said, feeling exasperated and slightly amused.

With his free hand, Steve held his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart. "Little bit," he replied cheekily. "So, come on, give. Who else do I owe for my adorable little niece?" he persisted.

"Niece?" said Tony, arching an eyebrow and hiding a smirk.

"Yeah, I _am_ your fraternity brother after all, ergo that makes me her uncle," said Steve matter-of-factly. He bounced Megan in his arms again. "That's right, I'm your uncle Steven," he cooed, smiling down at the three-year-old affectionately and gently tweaking her nose.

Tony watched them enviously; Steve had always had a great rapport with kids and by the looks of it Megan was already beginning to fall for his charms, even though she couldn't hear that ridiculous, high-pitched baby-talk tone he was using on her. Speaking of which …

"Hey, did Lucy tell you that Megan's –"

"Deaf? Yeah I know. Doesn't mean she can't respond to my facial expressions, does it?" said Steve, all his attention still on Megan. "No, you don't need to hear me to know I think you're adorable, do you?" He tickled Megan's belly, causing her to giggle. Steve's response was to contort his face into an absurdly exaggerated expression of surprise. "Did you giggle?" he asked, still speaking in that sickly-sweet tone which was beginning to give Tony the creeps. "Did you just giggle?" he repeated, tickling Megan again. "Are you a clever girl? Are you?"

"Do you really need to talk like that?" Tony interrupted; sure he might vomit if he heard anymore of that baby-talk. "It's creepy."

"It is not."

"It is so, it's also unnecessary . . . and kinda patronizing," said Tony irritably.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Your Daddy's no fun," he said to Megan, thankfully in his normal voice. He glanced over at Tony. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Huh?"

"Don't even try playing dumb with me," Steve said warningly. "I wanna know what idiot walked away from a beautiful kid like this. I mean, you do know who it is, right?"

"Yes I know!" snapped Tony. He pushed a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up. He really didn't feel like getting into this right now, but he knew Steve well enough to know that he wouldn't let this drop until he got an answer. He sighed and glared at his old friend. "Do you remember . . . Erika?" he asked reluctantly.

Steve frowned at the ceiling, clearly trying to place the name. Tony braced himself, waiting for the bomb to go off. He didn't have to wait long. Steve's eyes widened, his mouth fell open and his face transformed into a look of utter astonishment. Tony actually flinched when Steve's head snapped back in his direction. "The Booty Call girl!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"_Steve!_ Don't call her that in front of Megan!"

Steve actually glanced apologetically down at Megan before turning a frown back on Tony. _Oh boy, _thought Tony, _here it comes._

"I told you something like this could happen!" Steve hissed, jabbing an accusing finger in Tony's direction. "I told you to break it off with her! I told you that it was the wrong time for you to get drawn into an affair like–!"

"I know!" yelled Tony. "I _know_ alright?" He turned away, hands on hips, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to cool his rising temper. He remembered all too clearly the hell Steve had given him when he had drunkenly confessed about the no-strings-attached relationship he was having with Erika all those years ago. "_You_ were right _I_ was wrong," he ground out. "Are you happy now?" he demanded, shooting Steve a furious glare.

Steve set Megan on the floor and took a few steps towards Tony. "No I'm not actually …"

Tony held up a hand to cut him off. "Steve," he began wearily. "I really don't need a lecture right now. I get it, okay? I screwed up, I didn't think about the consequences of my actions and . . . well, here we are!" he said, gesticulating with his arms spread wide. "I never imagined that one bad decision would lead to all this . . . but, even though I'm still pretty scared about how things might turn out . . . I wouldn't undo it for anything." He shifted his gaze away from Steve and onto Megan who was once again playing with her toys. He stared at her for several moments feeling a keen fondness swell in his chest for the little girl; there was also something else, a stirring of an emotion he wasn't quite ready to name yet. "If I hadn't had that fling …" he said quietly, "… then I wouldn't have Megan."

"Wow," said Steve, staring at Tony as he was seeing him for the first time. "When did you grow up?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Steve, come on, man –!" he began hotly.

"No I'm serious," Steve interrupted. "I've never heard you say anything like that before, I'm actually kinda impressed."

Tony, who felt utterly exhausted by this point, just shrugged and retreated to the couch; collapsing onto it with a grateful sigh. Steve followed him and perched on the coffee table.

"So, you're serious about this?" Steve asked after a pause. "You're really going to be a dad to Megan? You're going to raise her as a single parent even though it's a _huge_ responsibility and you know next to nothing about kids or how to care for them? And let's not forget the added issue that your child is deaf, do you really think you can handle that?"

"Is this supposed to be a pep talk or something? Because if it is, it really sucks!" Tony snarled angrily.

"Come on, Tony, I need to know. Do you think you can do this?" demanded Steve.

"I don't know!" yelled Tony, heaving a frustrated sigh. "But Gibbs seems to think I can and . . . I wanna try, Stevo, I wanna be there for her, take care of her . . . I wanna watch her grow up . . . I-I …" He sighed again, and turned his head so he was facing his friend. "I don't know if I'll be any good at this or if I'm what she needs but I'm all she's got and I _won't_ abandon her!"

A slow smile spread across Steve's mouth. "Okay then."

"That's it?" cried Tony incredulously.

"Pretty much," said Steve nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders in a cheerful, carefree sort of way.

"Really? No more words of wisdom you'd like to endow? No lectures, nothing?"

"No. Although I wouldn't mind going over some legal issues with you."

"Huh?"

"You know, like custody rights. I mean has Erika –" he pronounced the name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth "– officially given up her parental rights?"

"Well, she just dumped Megan here like she was a sack of potatoes, doesn't that count?" Tony asked in confusion.

"Not really, it would really be best if we drew up a consent document and have Erika –" again the name was said in mild disgust "– sign it so she can officially surrender her parental rights to the child. That way she can't show up anytime she feels like it and try to take Megan back."

Tony closed his eyes and groaned. "That means I'll have to contact her, doesn't it?"

"Hey, relax, I can handle all that if you want and as long as Erika goes along with it – which I assume she will – then it will be a fairly simple business."

"Thanks, Steve," Tony said gratefully.

"You should also get Megan's birth certificate changed," Steve stated after a slight pause.

"Why?"

"Well I'm assuming you're not listed as the father which will definitely need to change if you're going to have full custody. And I'm guessing right now Megan doesn't share your last name so we can ask for that to be changed at the same time," explained Steve.

"Yeah, I'd like for her to have my name." Tony glanced back at Steve and smiled. "I appreciate you doing all this, Stevo. And about before, I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to snap …"

"Ah forget about it," Steve interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "You're a parent now; you're entitled to a few mood-swings every now and then."

Tony grinned for the first time since this discussion had begun. "You're a good pal you know that?" he said seriously. "Even if you are a blood-sucking lawyer," he added teasingly.

"Ho, ho, ho," Steve said sarcastically. "Really, Tony, you need to get a new line, that one's gettin' pretty old."

Tony just laughed in response.

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Since I'm doing you this big favor, does that mean I get to tell the rest of the guys about Megan?" asked Steve, his eyes alight with mischievous glee. Tony slapped his palm to his forehead and gave another groan. "Is that a yes?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Hi Guys, sorry it's taken me so long to update but I had a bit of writer's block at the beginning of this chapter. Anyway here it is so I hope you enjoy. Also I can't promise to have weekly updates like some writers, I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my stories which makes for slow writing, but I can promise that updates will come until the story is complete. _

_Kind regards, All Hail Hufflepuff_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Tony followed Steve down to the parking lot, realizing he had forgotten Megan's new step-stool in the trunk of his car. In his arms Tony carried Megan who was once again occupied with her DS-thingy. He walked Steve to his car and watched as the other man tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat. Slamming the passenger door shut, Steve turned toward Tony with a wide smile on his face.

"Okay," he said, clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'll draw up this consent document tonight, swing by your place 'bout dinner time tomorrow so you can look it over and then we'll send it off."

"Let me guess, you expect me to make dinner," said Tony wryly.

"You know it, doll-face," replied Steve jokingly, pinching Tony's cheek.

Tony batted Steve's hand away, a truly evil grin stealing over his face. "In that case there's probably a good chance you'll finally get to meet Gibbs."

"I will?" Steve asked eagerly.

"Yeah, he said he would come over and help me clear out the spare bedroom."

"Really?" said Steve, drawing the word out – a habit he had picked up from Tony. "Wow. Finally I get to see for myself if he's a big a bastard as you claim he is."

Tony chuckled in an ominous sort of way.

"I bet he's not half as scary as you say he is," Steve continued with confidence.

At this Tony let out a bark of laughter. "I dare you to say that to his face."

"You're on!"

The pair of them grinned at each other like a couple of idiots for a few minutes before exchanging a warm handshake.

"Okay, bro," said Steve, climbing into his car. "I'll catch you tomorrow."

"Later, man."

Tony was almost to his car when Steve called out his name. Turning back, he saw his friend stand up and lean his arms over the car door. Tony raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"I almost forgot," said Steve, smiling that charming smile of his.

"Forgot what?" asked Tony in confusion.

"I forgot to tell you," Steve began, flashing white teeth as his smile widened. "I think you'll make a great dad."

A small, timid smile curled one corner of Tony's mouth. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded in response. Understanding Tony's silence, Steve waved goodbye, climbed into his car and started the engine. Tony was still thinking over his friend's words when he returned to the apartment. _I really hope Steve and Gibbs aren't putting too much faith in me. I don't wanna screw this up._ He set Megan down, watching as she wandered off and made herself comfortable on the floor. With a small nod, Tony made his way to the bathroom where he placed Megan's step-stool next to the toilet. He stared at it for a moment, hands braced on hips and head tilted to one side. It looked oddly out of place in his rather bland, minimalistic bathroom; all pink and girly, with it's little white flowers painted on each step. A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head. _Guess I better get used to changes like this, hell knows there's gonna be a lot more of them._ With a broad grin forming on his lips he returned to the main living area.

He brewed himself a cup of coffee, cursing Gibbs for probably the thousandth time for getting him hooked on this crap in the first place. While he waited on the coffeemaker Tony rinsed milk out of Megan's new Sippy-cup and then filled it with apple juice. When the coffee was ready he took a long grateful sip and wandered towards the couch, sitting Megan's cup next to her along the way. He sat down, sighing in relief, and once again pulled the sign language dictionary towards him. Setting his cup down on the coffee table, Tony pulled the book onto his lap and flipped it open.

"Okay, Tony, time to learn your alphabet," he said. "Again."

* * *

Tony groaned and rubbed his temple. He'd been staring at these pages for . . . well, he wasn't sure how long but it was beginning to give him a headache. On the bright side though he had memorized the ASL alphabet, since the book advised the use of fingerspelling to help beginner signers spell out words they don't know the sign for. He'd also picked up a few basic signs such as 'hungry', 'thirsty', 'toilet', and 'bedtime'. He had practiced them over and over again to be sure they stuck in his brain. Now he could do with a break. He closed the book and set it to one side, noticing for the first time how dull the room had grown since he last looked up. Frowning, Tony glanced at his watch and swore under his breath.

"Two and a half hours!" he cried incredulously. "I was staring at that thing for two and half hours!"

He stood up and stretched, groaning in relief when his spine popped. Scratching his head, he walked over to a lamp, switched it on and then glanced around the room for Megan. To his alarm he found her sitting exactly where he had left her, still playing that damn computer game. _Shit!_ If this obsession with computer games continued Megan could end up like McGee! With that horrifying thought bolstering him, Tony marched forward and gently pried the DS-thing out of Megan's hands. She made a sound of protest and jumped to her feet, trying to snatch it back. Tony held it out of reach and shook his head.

'_T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W,'_ he spelled, pulling a stern expression onto his face.

Megan's face registered first surprise and then anger and that was when all hell broke loose.

* * *

Gibbs frowned as he reached Tony's floor, not because his bad knee was complaining about the climb up here, but because of the guy who was banging on DiNozzo's front door.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" he heard the guy shout. "What the hell are you doing in there? Skinning a cat? You wanna keep it down!" he demanded, continuing to pound his fist against the door.

As Gibbs stalked forward, ready to confront the guy, he picked up the sound of a child screaming coming from inside Tony's apartment. _Aw hell, I'd recognize that sound anywhere._

"Hey! Are you listening to me?" the guy yelled angrily. "If you don't stop whatever the hell it is you're doing in there, I'm gonna call the cops!"

"There a problem here?" growled Gibbs.

He was gratified to see the guy – presumably one of Tony's neighbors – jump in alarm at his sudden question. Gibbs guessed the guy was in his late forties; he was scruffy and unshaven with a sizeable beer gut hanging over his pants. The guy looked him up and down, an expression of contempt on his face.

"Ain't you a little _old_ to be a pizza delivery boy?" the guy sneered, indicating the pizza box in Gibbs' hand.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the guy retorted sarcastically. "You asked me a question, well allow me to enlighten you – I can't hear myself think because this _asshole_ –" he slammed his hand against Tony's door "– is making so much goddamn noise!"

"Sounds frustrating," Gibbs deadpanned.

The guy turned back to Gibbs with a murderous look in his eye. "Look, buddy, I don't know who the hell you are and I don't give a shit but I am _this_ close –" he held his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart "– from smashing your face –!"

He didn't get a chance to finish his threat; Gibbs grabbed him by the wrist, twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him against Tony's door with a loud thud, all the while managing to keep the pizza box perfectly balanced in his other hand.

"Hey! Let go of me you _maniac!_ What the hell is wrong with –?"

Gibbs tightened his grip on the guy's arm, effectively silencing him. "I think you should go back to your apartment now, sir," he whispered menacingly into the guy's ear.

"_Crazy son of a bitch!_ We'll see what the cops have to say about – _Argh!_"

"You don't wanna do that," said Gibbs, applying more pressure to the man's arm. "Do you?"

"_Argh!_ Alright! Alright, I won't call the cops – just let go of me, man!"

Smiling in satisfaction Gibbs released him and took a step back. The guy turned around, rubbing his arm and eyeing the ex-marine warily.

"Go on," said Gibbs, making a shooing motion with his hand.

The guy shot Gibbs one last glare before taking the advice and heading down the hall. Pulling out his key Gibbs let himself into Tony's apartment and was greeted by quite a sight. Megan was thrashing about on the living room floor – face bright red and screwed up in anger, mouth wide open in a seemingly endless piercing scream – having the mother of all temper tantrums. Tony – poor, hapless rookie to the parenting world – was crouched next to her, trying in vain to calm her down. His head snapped up when Gibbs deliberately slammed the door shut behind him.

"Gibbs!" he cried, voice awash with relief. "You gotta do something! She won't stop! I-I think she's having a tantrum!"

"Nothing gets by you does it, DiNozzo?" Gibbs grunted sarcastically.

Tony frowned at him. "This is no time for jokes!" he yelled in a high and slightly hysterical voice. "Get over here and fix it!"

Gibbs shook his head and waltzed slowly over to the father and daughter. "Alright, get up," he ordered, grabbing Tony by the upper arm and hauling him to his feet, ignoring the younger man's stuttered protests. "Follow me," he said, towing Tony along by the arm towards the couch and forcing him to sit down. He took the seat next to him, opened the box still clutched in his hand and said: "Pizza?"

Tony gawped at him like he thought Gibbs had lost his mind. Unperturbed, Gibbs picked out a slice of pizza and took a hearty bite, chewing with obvious enthusiasm.

_"You-shoohd-eat-sum-before-id-geds-cold!"_ he said with his mouth full, jabbing a finger at the remaining slices of pizza in the box.

"Are you nuts?" Tony asked incredulously. "My kid is over there screaming her head off and thrashing about like some kind of epileptic ragdoll and you want me _to eat pizza?_"

Gibbs snorted in amusement and damn near choked on the bit of pizza that he'd been chewing. He somehow managed to swallow it without coughing it back up and causing a scene.

"Relax, DiNozzo," he said gruffly, throat a little sore from almost choking. "The best way to handle a tantrum is to ignore it."

"_Ignore it!_" cried Tony, in a tone that suggested Gibbs had just declared the sky was green and not blue.

"Yep."

Tony went back to gaping at Gibbs. Megan – on the other hand – apparently aware of Tony's sudden absence, chose that moment to change tactics, she stopped screaming and began to sob instead; big, loud miserable sobs that were meant to tug at the heartstrings. Gibbs grabbed Tony by his shirt and yanked him down when the younger man sprung out of his seat.

"Boss, come on let go! She needs–fhmhmffmhm!" The rest of Tony's sentence came out as muffled gibberish since Gibbs had shoved a slice of pizza into the man's open mouth. Tony glared at Gibbs indignantly.

"Shut up and eat your dinner, Tony," Gibbs ordered sternly. "What she needs is to calm down and she isn't gonna do that if you're givin' her attention."

Tony slumped back against the couch, a frown darkening his features, and chewed his pizza with unwarranted aggression.

"So what set her off in the first place?" Gibbs asked curiously after a few minutes.

Tony's face flushed with guilt. "I took her DS-game-thing off her," he admitted despairingly. "I figured she'd spent enough time on it today."

"Nothing wrong with that, Tony, you're her father it's up to you to set the rules," Gibbs said reassuringly.

"Yeah but if I had just let her have the stupid thing she wouldn't have freaked out!"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled in exasperation. "You can't tip-toe around her the rest of her life and hope everything turns out alright. Sometimes she is gonna have to do things she doesn't wanna do and she will react the same way she's doing right now and it won't be fun or easy but you will just have to suck it up and deal with it! Otherwise she will grow up to be a spoiled brat. Is that what you want?"

"No," Tony replied meekly, staring at his knees.

"Good."

Megan, realizing that her heartfelt sobs were having no effect, began to scream again – not quite with the same gusto as before – and pound the floor with her feet.

"Met one of your neighbors," Gibbs said casually, using it as a way to distract Tony who looked ready to jump out of his seat once more.

"Huh?" said Tony in confusion. "Oh . . . yeah. That was Mr. Martin. The guy's a real jerk."

"I noticed."

"What'd you do to make him leave anyway?" Tony asked curiously.

Gibbs shrugged. "Just had a friendly chat," he said nonchalantly.

Tony eyed him skeptically, a small smirk curling his lips. "Why don't I believe that?"

Gibbs flashed him a quick grin. "'Cause you're a good investigator, Tony."

"He's not gonna be pressing charges is he, boss?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," Gibbs muttered darkly, causing Tony to laugh.

"Damn, can't believe I missed it," said Tony, still chuckling to himself.

"What happened to your forehead?" Gibbs asked after a pause, indicating the bright pink patch of skin on the center of Tony's forehead.

Tony prodded the spot gingerly with his finger. "Oh . . . uh, Megan threw her Sippy-cup at my head," Tony explained sheepishly, pointing at the cup which had rolled next to his armchair. "She has surprisingly good aim."

"Ouch," said Gibbs.

"Indeed."

Gibbs got up and retrieved the cup, inspecting it as he sat back down. It was made from blue, transparent plastic covered with cartoon images of . . . was that a sponge? There was also a pink star wearing pants and a squirrel in a spacesuit. _What the hell?_ The characters were carrying fishing nets and appeared to chasing what looked vaguely like pink jellyfish. The cup's lid was bright yellow and formed in the shape of a face.

"Yah drink out of its nose?" Gibbs said in tone of mild disgust.

"Yeah," Tony chuckled. "Megan thought it was funny."

Speaking of Megan, her temper tantrum was beginning to run out of steam. She had stopped screaming and stamping her feet and was now quietly sobbing and sniffing; sounding every bit sorry for herself.

"Can I go to her now?" Tony asked beseechingly.

"No," Gibbs growled. "Sit there and pay attention." With that he dumped the pizza box onto Tony's lap and stood up, rounding the couch and approaching Megan who lay spent on the floor.

Megan's face was red and blotchy, her cheeks shiny with tear tracks and her hair mussed and sticking up in places. Gibbs crouched down next to her, pulling her up so she was in a seated position, and began to sign.

"I don't care how upset you are, that is no way to behave," he said while he signed, speaking purely for Tony's benefit. "If you're upset then you say 'I'm angry' but you do not act like that. You behave like that again you'll get a timeout. Understand?"

Megan stared up at him with big watery eyes, wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded. Gibbs lifted her by the armpits and pulled her to her feet. He took her by the hand and towed her toward the couch.

'_Apologize,'_ he signed, pointing at Tony.

The three-year-old sniffed loudly and turned a forlorn expression toward her father. Sticking out her bottom lip she slowly made the sign for 'sorry'. Tony looked to Gibbs for guidance. He nodded, granting his permission, and Tony leaned forward, tossed the pizza box onto the coffee table and pulled Megan into his arms for a hug. Gibbs smiled and sat back down. A moment later, Tony leaned back, cradling Megan against his chest like a baby, rubbing his hand up and down her back in a comforting manner. Megan pressed her face against Tony's shirt, sniffling and whimpering in a truly pathetic fashion. Gibbs leaned forward, snagging the pizza box and Megan's cup off the coffee table and handing the latter to Tony.

"Get her to drink something," he ordered.

Tony nodded, tilting Megan's face toward him and offering her the cup which she took after a moment's hesitation. Once she had satisfied her thirst Gibbs handed Tony a slice of pizza which the younger man gave to Megan without having to be instructed. They sat for a while in companionable silence, eating their meal and giving Megan time to completely calm down. However, it was not meant to be; Megan was still in a foul mood and she had no intention of settling down anytime soon as she proved when Gibbs threw the empty pizza box back onto the table. She sat up and turned towards him, an endearing pout puckering her lips.

'_Can I have my game now?'_ she asked.

Gibbs shook his head. _'Not today. Your Daddy said no.'_

'_But I want it!'_ she replied, dissolving into tears again and throwing herself dramatically onto his lap.

Tony shot him an accusing glare. "What'd you say?"

Gibbs shook his head and patted Megan's head. "Same thing you did. She's just cranky and tired, Tony. What she really needs is a nice bath."

"_Bath?_" Tony squeaked, giving Gibbs a weird look.

"Yeah, c'mon I'll show yah what to do," said Gibbs, clapping a hand on Tony's knee and hauling himself off the couch, lifting Megan into his arms in the process.

"Uh . . . you sure that's a good idea, boss? I mean . . . shouldn't we call Abby or something?"

Gibbs arched an eyebrow and leveled a pointed look in the younger man's direction, hiding his amusement when Tony struggled not to squirm under the scrutiny. "See if you can find any bath toys in one of those boxes," he ordered, turning on his heel and heading for the bathroom.

He cracked a smile when he stepped into the bathroom and caught sight of the little pink step-stool next to the toilet. _Looks like Megan is starting to make a mark on this place,_ he thought with a flash of pride. Probably the nicest thing about Tony's rather modest bathroom was the old, claw-footed bathtub which was the only original feature left besides the black and white tiled floor. Gibbs set Megan down – who was still sniffling to herself in a pitiful sort of way – and began to prepare her bath. Tony wandered in a few minutes later, carrying with him a cardboard box labeled 'Bathroom' and looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Found some bath toys, boss," he explained, hovering next to the door. "And some bubble-bath," he added, lifting the bottle out of the box and showing it to Gibbs.

"That's great, Tony," said Gibbs, walking over and taking the box from Tony. "You got a chair I could use?"

"Yeah, in my bedroom . . . I'll just get it for you," Tony answered, turning to leave.

Gibbs returned to the bathtub and set the box on the floor, taking the bottle of bubble-bath and pouring some into the water. He then took his jacket off and tossed it onto the bathroom counter. Megan was standing on her tippy-toes, peering over the porcelain tub, watching as the thick, white foam slowly rose higher and higher. Gibbs smiled down at her, feeling an aching pang of sorrow clench his heart as he recalled his own beloved daughter doing the same thing so many years ago. He tousled her hair, pushing aside the moment of pain, forcing himself to focus and the here and now. He dipped his fingers into the water, checking the temperature wasn't too hot.

"Here yah go, boss," said Tony, stepping back into the room and dragging a chair along with him.

"Thanks," Gibbs called over his shoulder, turning off the taps. He took the chair gratefully from Tony and sat it next to the tub. With a sigh he sat down, smirking at Tony who still looked extremely uneasy. "There's no need to feel uncomfortable, DiNozzo."

Ignoring Gibbs, Tony asked: "Can't we just call Abby?"

"No we are not calling Abby!"Gibbs growled impatiently. "What is your problem, Tony?"

"I'm sorry, boss, but I'm just having issues with the whole . . . _naked_ thing!" exclaimed Tony. "I mean other parents change their kid's diapers from day one so it's not a problem for them, but I didn't do any of that. Christ, I haven't known her a week and you want me t-to …" he trailed off, looking at Gibbs helplessly.

"Are you gonna take responsibility or not?" Gibbs demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

"Yes but –!"

"No buts. _This_ is one of your responsibilities so either you get your ass in gear or we start looking for a new home for Megan."

That last comment earned Gibbs an angry glower; the kind of reaction he'd been hoping for. He watched Tony square his shoulders and step forward. Gibbs stood up and pointed at the chair he'd just vacated.

"Sit," he ordered.

Still glaring daggers at Gibbs, Tony did as he was told. Gibbs patted Megan on the head to get her attention and explained to her that it was 'bath-time'. In response she removed her purple hoodie, letting it fall to the floor, and then raised her hands above her head, glancing between the two men expectantly. Tony took the cue for what it was and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Gibbs backed off, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, allowing Tony to take charge of the situation. Tony continued to undress Megan, hesitating when she stood in just her underwear.

"Uh . . . don't take this the wrong way, boss, but um . . . would you mind closing your eyes?" Tony asked awkwardly.

The request was so unexpected that Gibbs actually let out a bark of surprised laughter. Shaking his head in amusement he closed his eyes and covered them with the palm of his hand for good measure; if it made Tony feel more comfortable then so be it. A moment later he heard Tony ask:

"Uh . . . do I put her in the tub now?"

"Well that's kinda the point yeah," Gibbs replied sarcastically.

There was a splash and a giggle and then Tony said: "Okay you can look now, boss."

Gibbs opened his eyes and watched as Tony passed Megan her bath toys which included a mermaid doll with pink hair and a pink tail, a plastic crocodile, a number of brightly colored toy fish, a little plastic boat and a family of rubber ducks. Megan's mood had taken a drastic change for the better; she was once again all smiles and laughter, splashing about in the water and playing with the bubbles as if she didn't have a care in the world. He smiled in relief; grateful she wasn't one of those kids who screamed their head off when forced to take a bath. Tony's face was turned away from him so Gibbs couldn't see what kind of expression the younger man was wearing but there did appear to be measurably less tension in the man's shoulders than there had been just a few minutes ago. Hopefully he was beginning to feel more at ease with the situation.

"Back in a minute, Tony," Gibbs said by way of explanation, heading for the door. Tony's head snapped up at that; a look of panic on his face. "Relax, you'll be fine. Just don't take your eyes off her," Gibbs added reassuringly.

"Got it, boss," Tony said with determination, giving him a sloppy salute.

Gibbs chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. He raided the cupboards until he came across a small, plastic measuring jug, which he snatched down with a sound of triumph, before returning to the bathroom.

"Here," he said, thrusting it in front of Tony's face.

Tony frowned in confusion, and slowly took hold of it. "What's this for?"

"How else are yah gonna wash her hair?"

"Oh."

"You got any shampoo?" Gibbs asked, glancing around the bathroom.

"Yeah, in the shower stall, boss."

Gibbs walked over to the shower, opening the glass door he grabbed the kids' shampoo and conditioner and a washcloth which was sitting on the shelf beneath them. Turning back he noted that Tony had already started washing Megan's hair. Unsurprisingly, Megan was putting up some resistance to his ministrations; grabbing hold of his wrists to prevent him pouring the jug of water over her head and squawking in annoyance. This was the part of the bath that most kids generally hated and Megan was no exception.

"Hey, cut that out," Tony said without heat, sweeping sopping wet hair out of her face with his free hand as he spoke.

"Try tilting her head back and shield her eyes with your other hand," Gibbs advised, setting the bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the floor and draping the washcloth over Tony's knee.

"Okay, boss."

Gibbs returned to the bathroom counter, pulling himself up on to it so he was now sitting next to the sink. He watched silently as Tony continued to wash Megan's hair, using Gibbs' advised technique. In retaliation, Megan held her toy fish (which apparently doubled as squirt guns) under the water, filling them up and then squirting them in Tony's face; who took the abuse without complaint. A smile quirked Gibbs' lips a few minutes later, when Tony started shampooing Megan's hair; realizing he could use the lather as a substitute hair gel, he promptly began giving her funny hairstyles including a Mohawk and an Alfalfa style cowlick before eventually rinsing it out. When Megan's hair was finally clean, Tony plucked the washcloth off his knee, dipped it into the water and started to gently scrub Megan's arms with it. Nodding in satisfaction, Gibbs hopped off the counter and started toward the door.

"Going for coffee," he tossed over his shoulder. "You want some?"

"Nah, I'm good, boss," Tony replied, his tone relaxed and happy.

Several minutes later, he returned, a steaming hot cup of coffee cradled securely in his hands. Megan appeared to be clean now, since Tony sat with his arms braced against the edge of the tub, head pillowed on his forearms, a content expression on his face as he watched Megan play with her toys. Gibbs hid a smile behind his coffee cup and carefully perched on the rim of the bathtub. They sat there companionably for several minutes, just listening to Megan's laughter and the sounds of her toys splashing into the water. It was as Megan was twisting around to grab one of her rubber ducks, which had floated behind her, that something caught Gibbs' attention. He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes trying to get a better look at whatever it was.

"Birthmark," he said simply, pointing at Megan's left shoulder blade where a small light brown, oval shaped mark resided on the skin there.

Tony sat up curiously, and leaned to the side so he could see the birthmark for himself. "Huh . . . never noticed that before," he said quietly. "It kinda looks like a fingerprint," he added, laying his index finger across it to illustrate his point.

That remark earned Tony one of Gibbs' half-smiles. He dipped his fingers into the water, noticing the temperature had dropped quite significantly. "Okay, Tony, water's getting cold; time to get her out."

"You got it, boss," said Tony obediently, jumping out of his seat to retrieve a towel.

Gibbs stood up and retreated once again to the bathroom counter, to give Tony some semblance of privacy as he shielded Megan with the towel – who grumbled under her breath – and helped her stand up. He wrapped her up and lifted her out of the tub, kneeling on the floor where he proceeded to dry her off.

"Well that wasn't so bad," Tony said lightly, as he rubbed the towel through Megan's hair.

"Course not, Tony," said Gibbs. "It's easy when you know how."

"Hey, boss? How do you sign 'pajamas'?" Tony asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"There's two ways," Gibbs explained, setting his cup down. "You know how to spell yet?"

"Yeah," said Tony.

"Well there's no actual sign for pajamas so you can either spell P-J or you can combine two signs the first one is 'sleep' –" he raised his right hand, palm side down, over his face and brought it down closing first his eyes and then his fingers when his hand reached chin level "– and then you follow it up with the sign for 'clothes' –" he raised his two flat open hands to his chest and then brushed his fingertips down his shirt a few times, almost as if he were brushing dust off himself.

With a nod, Tony turned back to Megan and repeated the second sign. Megan grinned at him and extracted a hand from where it was bundled up so she could snag hold of Tony's nose. The younger man chuckled in amusement. "Sleep clothes, huh?" he said, his voice coming out high and nasally due to the little hand squeezing his nose. To Gibbs' surprise and secret delight, Tony pried his nose free from Megan's grip, tugged her closer and then kissed her soundly on the cheek before lifting her into arms and standing up.

Gibbs grabbed his jacket off the counter, pulled the plug in the bathtub so the water could drain and then followed Tony out of the bathroom. He wandered along the hallway until he reached Tony's bedroom, leaning against the doorjamb as Tony settled Megan on the bed and rummaged through her suitcase looking for pajamas.

"Think you can take it from here, Tony?" he asked casually.

Tony's head snapped up at that, and there was a slight hesitation in his voice when he asked: "You going already, boss?" Gibbs nodded slowly, eyeing the younger man closely. Tony tilted his head to one side. "You didn't start building another boat did'ja?"

Gibbs cracked a smile and chuckled softly. "Nah," he said. "I'm not building another boat."

Tony narrowed his eyes speculatively. "But you are building something." It was a statement not a question.

"Yep."

"Gonna tell me what it is?" Tony asked hopefully.

"Nope," Gibbs replied, wearing an expression that could only be described as smug.

Tony eyed him balefully for about half a minute before a small grin burst across his face. "Okay, boss, far be for me to keep you from your secret woodworking project."

Gibbs let a full blown grin light up his face, and wandered into the room so he could kiss Megan on the forehead and say his goodbyes. Then, in a rare display of affection, he tousled Tony's hair which caused the young Italian to look up at him in surprise.

"You're doing a hell of a job, Tony," he said with quiet conviction. "I'm proud of yah."

Gibbs wasn't entirely surprised when Tony dropped his gaze shyly to the floor and a faint blush stained his cheeks.

"Thanks, boss," he murmured quietly, glancing up almost timidly. "I really appreciate everything you've done to help me – I don't think I would've been able to get through all this without you here to point me in the right direction."

Not trusting himself to speak without looking like a fool, Gibbs simply grunted in acknowledgment and nodded. He reached out his hand, giving Tony's shoulder a brief squeeze before turning on his heel and heading out of the bedroom.

"I'll see you two tomorrow," he called over his shoulder.

"Night, boss."

"Night," Gibbs called back; pulling on his jacket and letting a small smile curl the corner of his mouth.

* * *

Tony smiled as he glanced over at Megan, snuggled under the covers, fast asleep with Cubby tucked under her chin. He was stretched out on the bed next to her, his back propped against the headboard and his laptop open on his lap. He had one of the memory cards installed in the side of the laptop and was reviewing the photographs he had taken earlier in the park. He was surprised by how well the photos had turned out, but he put that down to the high quality camera rather than any talent on his part. It didn't hurt that Megan was a natural in front of the lens. Oddly, he found that his favorite photo wasn't any of the ones where Megan was looking directly at the camera – smiling that beautiful smile of hers – but the one he'd taken later, with the butterfly perched on her finger; it was just such a fantastic capture, he couldn't help but love it. Tony found himself filled with a sudden desire to share this particular photograph with someone else – feeling slightly regretful he hadn't had a chance to show it to Gibbs. So he clicked on his email account, selected 'new mail message' which he addressed to Abby, attached the photograph and then entitled it 'Chasing butterflies' before sending it off into cyberspace.

With a satisfied smile, Tony ejected the memory card and powered down his laptop. He set them down on the nightstand and switched off the lamp, settling down to sleep. He reached out his arm and wrapped it around Megan's small frame.

"Goodnight, Megs," he whispered, the nickname just popping into his head and rolling off his tongue before he had a chance to figure out where it had come from. _Megs,_ he thought with a soft smile, _yeah, I like that._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_This chpater was surprisingly easy to write, it's not as long as some of my previous chapters but I thought I'd give it to you as it is. I had a ball writing the tantrum and bath scenes, my fingers just flew over my keyboard as the dialogue practically wrote itself. Well I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Once again I'd like to take this time to thank everyone who has read the story and left reviews, the amazing feedback this story has recieved makes me stupendously happy. Thank you all you wonderful people!_

_Yours Affectionately, All Hail Hufflepuff :)_


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **_Hey Guys, sorry its been so long between updates but writer's block really kicked my ass with this chapter but I got there in the end at least, so consider this my Christmas gift to you all. Hopefully my muse will be kinder to me with the next chapter. Again I'd like to thank everyone who has read and left reviews it really makes all the hard work worth while. I'll let you get on with reading the next chapter then shall I._

_Happy Holidays Everyone!_

**Chapter Eleven**

Tony groaned as he reluctantly drifted into consciousness. He rolled onto his back, and tiredly scrubbed a hand over his face, keeping his eyes firmly closed. A few seconds later they snapped open, however, when he heard a small, disgruntled grumble and then a moment later he felt Megan snuggle up against his side, wrapping her little arms around his much larger one as if it were a teddy bear. Tony lifted his head off the pillow and glanced down, a lazy smile curling his lips when he saw her tousled little head peeking out of the covers. Then he frowned when he realized he was lying on something soft and lumpy. He shifted to one side, using his free hand to grab whatever it was from under him.

"Oops, sorry, Cubby," he whispered, giving the slightly squashed looking teddy bear an apologetic sort of expression. "Hey," he said after a pause, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "No nightmares." His gaze settled back on Megan and a soft, pleased grin spread slowly across his face.

He propped himself up on his elbow, doing his best not to disturb Megan, and glanced at his alarm clock which told him it was a little after eight. Yawning, he carded a hand through his hair causing it to stand to attention. In an Indiana Jones style move, he replaced his right arm – which Megan was clinging so tightly to – with her Cubby bear, and then quietly slipped out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. After answering the call of nature, he shaved off his morning stubble and then padded barefoot down the hall to his kitchen. He scratched his chin as he pondered what to have for breakfast; thinking it might be a nice change of pace to have something other than sugarcoated cereal. It wasn't often that he had the time or the energy to cook something from scratch first thing in the morning, so he thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of it while he had the chance. Problem was he didn't really know what Megan liked to eat for breakfast besides Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops and blueberry pancakes. After a few minutes of deliberation he decided he couldn't go wrong with some crispy bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. With a determined nod he set to work.

A short while later, Megan – no doubt roused by the smell of bacon – wandered into the kitchen, sleepy and rumpled looking, with Cubby dangling from one hand while the other rubbed sleep from her eyes. Tony flashed a smile in greeting and was surprised when she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, leaning heavily against him. He went very still and stared down at her with wide eyes for a few seconds before slowly relaxing. He dropped a hand onto her head, stroking his fingers through her hair and smiling when he heard her exhale a huge yawn. Megan was still clinging to him when he began loading food onto two plates and refused to let go when he tried to leave the kitchen, forcing him to make his way awkwardly towards the couch, dragging her along by his leg. She didn't release him until he set the plates on the coffee table at which point she detached herself, kneeled down next to the table and snagged one of the plates. Grinning to himself, Tony perched on the edge of the couch and grabbed the remaining plate. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, searching through the channels until he found some cartoons; switching on the closed captions when he did.

One thing was for sure, Megan was certainly enjoying the breakfast Tony had prepared for her; he'd never seen someone so small pack away so much food in so short a time. _Definitely inherited my appetite, _he thought in amusement. It was as Tony was setting his own (_empty_) plate down on the coffee table that he heard a noise at the door. Without thinking, he reached for his sidearm; realizing too late that it was locked safely away in the top drawer of his nightstand. Before he had a chance to grab a makeshift weapon, the door opened and in stepped a grey-haired woman carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies who jumped in surprise when she set eyes on him. Tony sagged in relief.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed the woman, clutching at her chest in a dramatic fashion. "You scared me, Tony! What's wrong? You've not been shot again, have you?"

"Sorry, Dorothy, I should have called you – no, I've not been shot – not this time anyway." He gave an awkward laugh. "I'm just taking some time off work because . . . um, well . . . it's kinda complicated …"

Dorothy was, for all intent and purposes, Tony's 'maid'. Although perhaps 'cleaning lady' was a more accurate term. She also happened to be one of his neighbors; she lived on the first floor with her two cats Gladys and Alonzo and at a spritely sixty-eight used the money Tony gave her to help supplement her social security check. So every Friday morning she would drop by to run the vacuum around, dust, and clean the bathroom. Since Tony rarely spent much time at home other than to sleep and occasionally eat she really didn't have that much to do but she needed the extra income and Tony liked knowing he was helping her out.

"What's all this?" Dorothy asked, glancing about at all the boxes littering the living room floor. "You're not moving are you?"

Tony smiled, amused by the concern and disappointment he heard in Dorothy's voice. As a retired journalist Dorothy had put career ahead of her personal life and therefore had never found the right man to settle down with meaning she had no family to speak of, so Tony had become something of a surrogate son to her; he knew if he ever did decide to move that he would be sorely missed by the old woman.

"Relax, Dorothy, I'm not going anywhere," he assured her with a bright smile. "Actually someone's moving in –"

"Oh, Tony, you didn't tell me you were seeing someone!" Dorothy interrupted enthusiastically. "I'm so happy for you. Who is it? Oh I know it's that nice, chirpy girl with the pigtails, isn't it? Allie?"

"I think you mean Abby, but she's my friend – _just_ a friend – and I'm not seeing anyone at the moment . . . but the person moving in _is_ female but she's not – I mean – you see it's . . . well it's rather …" Tony broke off with a sigh, seeing the puzzled look on Dorothy's face. He stood up, took a deep breath and lifted Megan – who up until now had been shielded behind his body and the couch – into his arms where Dorothy could see her.

Dorothy gasped in surprise. "She's not –?"

"Yeah," Tony cut in. "This is Megan, my daughter."

The old woman just gaped at them, looking completely stunned. Megan stared at Dorothy for a moment with a somewhat baffled expression on her face before turning to Tony and giving him a look that seemed to ask _'where'd she come from?'_ Without really realizing what he was doing, Tony nodded towards the front door which Megan seemed to take as an acceptable answer, since she turned her head away to watch the TV over his shoulder. Dorothy's mouth opened and closed several times as she stared at the pair of them in astonishment.

"H-how did this happen?" she stammered at last. "I mean – I know _how_ it happened – but when? Who…?" Her voice tailed off in confusion.

"Like I said it's a long story, one I'd rather not get into . . . the point is she's here for good now," Tony explained. Although Tony and Dorothy were good friends, he didn't feel comfortable enough with her to share the full details of Megan's sudden appearance in his life.

Dorothy nodded her understanding then a wide, brilliant smile spread across her face. "This is wonderful, Tony, I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks," replied Tony with an awkward smile.

Dorothy made her way to the kitchen, set the bucket of cleaning supplies on the counter and then crossed the living room to stand next to Tony. She raised her hand and gently touched Megan on the arm, gaining the little girl's attention once more.

"Forgive me for asking but is she deaf?" she asked hesitantly.

Tony stared at her in astonishment. "How –?"

"I may not be an expert on children, Tony, but I've lived long enough to know small children tend to be little chatterboxes and this little one hasn't uttered a single word since I stepped through that door," she explained before Tony had a chance to complete his sentence.

Tony dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unconsciously drawing Megan closer to his body. He glanced up, however, when he felt Dorothy lightly touch his arm. A warm, affectionate smile spread across her face and she gave his arm a little squeeze.

"She's a beautiful child, Tony, you should be very proud."

Tony returned her smile with a shy one of his own. "Well, she's a DiNozzo, what do you expect?" he said jokingly, causing the older woman to laugh.

Remembering what he'd learned yesterday, Tony took this opportunity to introduce Dorothy to Megan, spelling out the old woman's name. Megan looked from Tony to Dorothy and back again, she then gave Dorothy a small, shy smile before burying her face against Tony's shoulder.

"I should get changed," said Tony, as he suddenly and embarrassedly became conscious of the fact he was standing there in a t-shirt and his boxers.

"Yes, Tony, you really should. I have work to do and _you_ are in the way," Dorothy replied cheekily. "Off you go," she added, making a shooing gesture with her hands.

Tony smirked. "Yes, ma'am," he said in his best John Wayne impression, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat.

Dorothy rolled her eyes at his antics and shook her head in amusement. Tony made his way towards one of the cardboard boxes that contained Megan's clothes. Setting her down, he took the box into his arms and then led the way to his bedroom; glancing once over his shoulder to be sure Megan was following him. Today, Megan's outfit consisted of a cream, bohemian style blouse with small dusky orange flowers printed around the collar, a pair of cropped, lilac cotton pants and – after ripping off the socks Tony had picked out – a pair of lime green Crocs which Megan had fetched out of the box containing her shoes. Tony threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans that had tears in both knees. Realizing that he was rapidly running out of clothes to wear, Tony decided to bite the bullet and get some laundry done. Emptying the contents of the hamper into a laundry basket, Tony made his way into the living room, searching for Megan; who was once again perched on his coffee table watching cartoons. Balancing the basket on his hip he approached her, tapping her gently on the head to get her attention. She glanced up at him and Tony stuck out his free hand, silently indicating that she take it. Megan stared at his hand, then at his face, then at the TV and then back at his face. Tony arched an eyebrow expectantly and wiggled his fingers. Megan pouted and glowered at his hand as if it was a piece of broccoli he was forcing her to eat. For a moment Tony thought she might disobey him, but then he heard her huff a little disgruntled sigh and then she was standing and wrapping her hand around his middle and index fingers.

"I'll be down in the laundry room, Dot," he explained, heading toward the front door.

Dorothy glanced up from where she was wiping down the counter in the kitchen. "Alright, Hun," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "And how many times have I told you not to call me 'Dot'?" she asked grumpily.

Tony chuckled, releasing Megan's hand so he could open the door. "Sorry, I forgot you don't like that," he said in an innocent tone that wasn't fooling anyone. "Won't happen again . . . _Dotty_."

He hastily ducked through the doorway, a bubble of laughter erupting from his mouth, when Dorothy growled in annoyance and threw a scouring sponge at him.

Tony really hated the apartment's laundry room in fact he generally tried to avoid it; preferring the Laundromat instead, but considering he had Megan with him he figured it would just be easier to use the apartment's facilities. The laundry room was all the way down in the basement; it was dark and dank and smelled horribly of mildew. The machines were constantly on the fritz and had a bad reputation for chewing up clothes or swallowing them up completely. _It's better than nothing, I guess,_ Tony thought morosely as he and Megan descended the stairs. After picking out a machine that worked, Tony loaded the clothes into it, added some detergent, slotted in some quarters and hit the start button. As the machine began its cycle Tony leaned his hip against one of the dryers and folded his arms across his chest. He watched as Megan pressed her hands against the vibrating washing machine and then began to laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Tony tipped his head to one side, the hint of a smile hovering around his mouth as he studied the little girl before him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what she found so fascinating about the washing machine.

After a few minutes Megan got bored with the washing machine, she wandered over to Tony and latched herself onto his leg. Tony's lips twitched as he stared down at the three-year-old.

"This gonna be a new thing from now on? You clinging to my leg like a little koala bear?" he asked in amusement, tweaking her nose affectionately.

In response Megan gave him a big toothy grin. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Megan changed positions so that she was now sitting on Tony's foot with both her arms and legs wrapped around Tony's calf. Laughing, Tony took that as his cue. Pushing himself away from the dryer he began to shuffle-walk around the room, dragging Megan along by his foot. Megan laughed and squealed in delight and Tony couldn't help but join in with her mirth. They were having so much fun that they didn't notice at first that they'd been joined by a third person; that was until that person cleared their throat indignantly. Tony froze and glanced up, coming face to face with one of his neighbors who he knew by sight but not by name; she was a middle-aged woman who lived on one of the floors above Tony, she had a long, haughty face, grey, bulging eyes and long brown hair scrunched back into a bun. She was staring at Tony and Megan as if they were something she'd just scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

"Oh, sorry about all the noise," he said easily, attempting to disarm her with one of his best DiNozzo smiles.

Apparently she was immune. "Incase you hadn't noticed, this _isn't_ a playground," she replied sternly.

"Of course not, I mean it'd be a pretty boring one if it was there isn't even a slide or . . . a sandpit …" he trailed off as the woman continued to glare at him. "Sorry . . . we'll just . . . get out of your way," he added, reaching down and helping Megan to stand. He lifted her into his arms and retreated to the dryer once again.

The woman stalked over to one of the washing machines, her sensible heels click-clacking on the concrete floor. Tony sat Megan on the dryer, pulling a funny face and nodding in the woman's direction.

'_I-C-E—Q-U-E-E-N,'_ he spelled, causing Megan to giggle.

Once the woman had loaded her laundry into the machine and got it going, she took out a collapsible stool – which she'd been carrying under her arm – set it on the floor, perched her sizable backside upon it and then took out a book which had been concealed in her laundry basket. She eyed them balefully for a few more minutes before turning her attention to her book. _It's probably some frumpy romance novel, _Tony thought scathingly, more than a little peeved off with the old hag's behavior. He glanced round when he felt Megan tug on his t-shirt. She signed something to him and he furrowed his brow in confusion to show he didn't understand.

'_B-O-R-E-D,'_ Megan spelled out, giving him an imploring look.

Tony nodded, glancing around the room; searching for inspiration. Unfortunately, they'd forgotten poor Cubby back in the apartment and there really wasn't much of anything down here to keep a child occupied. He chewed his lower lip and drummed his fingers against the dryer, trying to think of a game they could play. A few minutes later he snapped his fingers, face lighting up, as an idea struck him.

He pointed at Megan. _'You S-I-G-N,'_ he half signed, half spelled, and then pointed at himself. _'Me G-U-E-S-S – S-I-G-N.'_

Megan smiled and made the universal sign for OK. Tony smiled in return, pleased he had thought up a game that would keep Megan entertained and also educate him about sign language at the same time. Megan chewed on her bottom lip, and kicked her legs – heels crashing noisily against the metal dryer – as she thought up her first sign. A moment later she brought her arms up and folded them across her chest in a vampire-like fashion, scratching her shoulders with her fingers, and then closing her hands into fists, making a squeezing motion as if she was hugging something to her.

'_H-U-G?'_ Tony guessed with a large confident smile splitting his face. _Maybe this signing isn't as difficult as I thought it would be._

Megan grinned cheekily and shook her head. Tony frowned in confusion; he'd been so sure that his answer had been right. Without prompting, Megan repeated the sign. Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth as he tried to figure out what else the sign could mean. Megan took this moment to stand up on the dryer and Tony grabbed her by the wrist to make sure she didn't fall. After a slight wobble, Megan made claws with her hands and bared her little white teeth in a snarl; apparently she was trying to give Tony a clue.

'_M-O-N-S-T-E-R?' _he asked uncertainly.

Megan giggled and shook her head again. _Damn,_ thought Tony, _what the hell is it?_ Megan repeated the sign then repeated the snarling, clawed . . . thing, this time adding Mickey Mouse ears with her hands. _What the? Why is Mickey Mouse snarling at me? Oh wait, maybe it's supposed to be Mighty Mouse . . . no wait, that doesn't make any sense! Why the hell would there be a sign for Mighty Mouse? Wait, maybe it isn't a mouse at all maybe it's supposed to be a . . . oh I got it!_

'_B-E-A-R?'_ he asked. Megan smiled, and made the hugging gesture again. _A bear I can hug? Ooooh! 'T-E-D-D-Y – B-E-A-R?'_

'_Yes,' _signed Megan, giving him a huge, happy grin. Tony felt a matching grin spread across his mouth as he repeated the correct sign for teddy bear.

Megan remained standing and began the next sign, patting her right leg with her right hand and then snapping her fingers. Tony took a few minutes before answering.

'_L-E-G?'_

'_No,'_ replied Megan.

Tony rubbed his chin as he considered what the snapping fingers could mean. _'D-A-N-C-I-N-G?'_ Another giggle and another no. _'J-A-Z-Z?'_ he asked again, already doubting his answer. That just earned him a look of confusion. _Okay, definitely not jazz then._ Megan took pity on him and gave him another clue . . . at least that's what he assumed she was doing when she suddenly stuck out her tongue and began to silently pant.

'_P-A-N-T-S?'_ he asked hesitantly. Megan gave him a look that clearly questioned his intelligence and Tony couldn't help but chuckle at the expression. _C'mon, DiNozzo, think, _he berated himself. He arched his eyebrows when Megan chose that moment to do an adorable butt wiggle. _Alright now I'm really confused._ Megan was staring at him expectantly as if the butt wiggle was the most obvious clue she could have given him, unfortunately Tony could only offer her a blank expression. Megan gave a little sigh and shook her head, her shoulders drooping slightly, no doubt cursing her luck for having such a stupid father; at least that's what Tony imagined must be going through her little head. She sat back down, and for a moment Tony was afraid she'd lost interest in the game, but then to his surprise Megan removed one of her lime green crocs from her foot and then, in an impressive display of flexibility, proceeded to rub her ear with her bare foot.

"Dog!" he cried out loud, earning himself an annoyed glare from his grumpy hag of a neighbor. "I mean," he whispered. _'D-O-G?'_

'_Yes,'_ replied Megan, rewarding him with another huge smile and a thumbs up.

They continued like that for the duration it took to wash and dry the laundry, all the while ignoring the impatient huffing and puffing sounds coming from Tony's neighbor and the irritated glares she kept shooting in their direction. By the time they were heading upstairs Tony had learned a lot more signs although he wasn't entirely certain when in the near future he would need to know how to say dog, flower, apple, ball, sunglasses, Christmas, and paint; which was just a few of the random things Megan had signed and then acted out for him. Despite the perhaps less than helpful signs now added to his vocabulary, Tony couldn't help the flutters of contentment and happiness he was feeling simply from spending time with Megan. _It's crazy to think that less than a week ago just the idea of becoming a father would have sent me running for the hills – yet here I am; enjoying this, enjoying Megan, enjoying being a . . . dad._ A small smile hovered around Tony's mouth as he turned this thought over in his mind.

"There you are, I was just about the send out a search party," Dorothy said by way of greeting, as Tony and Megan stepped into the apartment. She was in the living room wrapping up the electrical cord of the vacuum cleaner. Tony knew from experience that Dorothy always left cleaning the living room to last which meant she was almost finished for the day.

"Sorry, Dorothy, but you know how slow those machines are," Tony explained. "Let me just stick this lot away and I'll get your money."

"Alright, Hun," Dorothy called after him as he made his way toward the bedroom, Megan tagging along behind him.

Setting the laundry basket down on his bed, he turned, scooped Megan into his arms and went in search of his wallet; locating it a few minutes later on top of his dresser. "Here you go, Dorothy," he said a few minutes later, handing the money to Dorothy. "Thanks for everything, the place looks great."

"That's what you always say," she replied with an amused smile.

"That's 'cause it's always true," he said, giving her his famous megawatt smile.

"Charm will get you nowhere, Tony," she chided lightheartedly.

"My experience so far would suggest otherwise," he retorted cheekily, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, earning himself a light swat to the chest.

Dorothy smiled up at him affectionately, her eyes darting between him and the little girl in his arms. "I think this is a wonderful thing that has happened, Tony," she stated softly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "I believe you'll make an excellent father."

Taken aback by this unexpected vote of confidence, Tony could merely nod and smile in response.

"Well," Dorothy chirped briskly, clapping her hands together and startling Tony slightly. "That's enough soppiness for one day, I think. I had better be going I've got grocery shopping to do."

Tony grinned and ducked his head. "Yeah . . . right. I'll see you next week then, Dorothy."

"See you next week, Hun," said Dorothy, patting him on the shoulder. Smiling at Megan she reached up, swept some hair out of the little girl's eyes, she then turned, collected her things, called out one final goodbye, and left.

Tony stood there for a few moments, bouncing Megan in his arms. "So . . . now what should we do?"

* * *

Gibbs stepped off the elevator and strolled leisurely towards Abby's lab, sipping from his coffee cup. The team still hadn't caught a case yet and were spending another morning stuck behind their desks going through cold case files, but for a change Gibbs didn't really mind; he was hoping to get away early so he could keep his promise to Tony and help make a start fixing up a bedroom for Megan. The sooner that kid had a permanent place to call her own the better he would feel. Gibbs was certain that having her own room would reassure Megan that her father wasn't about to abandon her like her mother had. He flinched slightly when he stepped into the lab and a screeching wail, coming from Abby's stereo, pierced his eardrums. _God! How can she stand that garbage?_

"Abby!" he barked irritably, raising his voice to be heard over the 'noise' – for he refused to regard it as music.

Abby glanced up from where she was sitting at her desk. "Hey, Gibbs!" she called out cheerfully, picking up her little remote and pointing it at the stereo; a few moments later the 'noise' was lowered to a more acceptable volume.

"Hi, Abs," he replied, his tone still retaining a smidge of grumpiness. "Brought ya something," he added, lifting the Caf-Pow he held in his other hand and waving it enticingly.

"Oh! You spoil me, Gibbs!" she chirped, flashing him a wide grin.

"I can always take it back if you don't wa–"

"NO! Gimme, gimme!" cried Abby, bolting out of her chair and clomping towards him as fast as her platform boots would allow. Gibbs chuckled as she snatched it out of his hand and took a loud, slurping sip from the straw. "Aaah!" she said when she was done. "Nothing like the first sip of a fresh Caf-Pow." Gibbs smirked and shook his head in amusement. "Ooh!" said Abby a moment later, seizing him by the arm – almost knocking his coffee to the floor – and dragging him to her computer. "I have to show you something! Wait to you see, it's so sweet! C'mon, c'mon!"

Switching his coffee to his other hand, Gibbs allowed himself to be towed into Abby's office. Once there the Goth dropped into her chair, set her Caf-Pow to one side, and began to type furiously at her keyboard. Setting his coffee cup on the desk next to Abby's drink, Gibbs leaned over the back of her chair so he had a better view of the computer screen.

"Look! Tony sent it to me," she explained, as an image popped up on the screen.

Gibbs blinked in surprise then a slow smile crept onto his face. The image was of Megan, she stood in the centre of the frame, a row of trees behind her, bathed in dappled sunlight, one of the beams of light was shining directly behind her head creating a gorgeous halo effect, and her little face was fixated on the delicate butterfly that was perched on her finger. It was a beautiful photograph and Gibbs couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his senior field agent; Tony hadn't been a father a week yet and already he was capturing memories of his newly found daughter.

"Isn't it awesome?" Abby asked enthusiastically. "I had no idea Tony could take such good photographs."

"You saying he takes lousy crime scene photos?" Gibbs asked teasingly.

"Noooo!" Abby protested, drawing out the word. "That's not what I – there's nothing wrong with – it's not – that's completely different!" she finished with a growl as Gibbs began to chuckle. "How is Tony anyway?" she asked, once Gibbs had settled down.

Gibbs smirked. "Experienced his first tantrum last night."

"Oooh, ouch," said Abby, wincing in sympathy. "How bad?"

"Well I had to stop one of his neighbors from busting down the door, and Tony looked close to tears himself."

"Yeesh," said Abby with a grimace. "So did you step in and show him how it's done, Bossman?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Something like that."

"So are you gonna check on Tony again tonight?"

"If we don't get a case I'm gonna help him set up a bedroom for Megan," explained Gibbs.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Abby chirped excitedly, bouncing in her seat. "Can I come, Gibbs? Pleeeeaassse! I haven't seen Tony in days!"

Gibbs smiled at her antics. "Sure, Abs."

"Yes!" cried Abby, punching the air. "I can tell Tony about all the great ideas I have for Megan's birthday party!"

"Birthday party?" asked Gibbs, arching an eyebrow.

"We _have_ to have a party, Gibbs, this is Megan's first birthday with her new family; we need to make it as special as we possibly can!"

Gibbs sighed but held his tongue; he wasn't sure how Tony would react when he discovered he was having a birthday party whether he liked it or not, and knowing Abby it was bound to be a big, extravagant affair.

"I wonder if I could get my brother to come down with my niece at such short notice," Abby pondered, talking more to herself than Gibbs.

_Aww hell,_ thought Gibbs, _what have we got ourselves into?_

* * *

Tony was having a great day. After Dorothy had left, Megan had gotten out her sketchpad and started drawing. Tony had watched her for about ten minutes and then decided to join in. Drawing had never been one of his strongpoints and Megan found his attempts to imitate her own fine works of art hysterical. After several stick figures, a cat that looked more like a snowman, something that vaguely resembled a dog, and a clumsily drawn flower, Megan got bored with their little art contest and went in search of something else to occupy her time. Tony had attempted to learn some more sign language, but fifteen minutes after opening his ASL dictionary there was a loud crash and Tony leaped off the couch to find a box of toys knocked to the ground – its contents strewn about the floor – and Megan rooting about in the box which had been under it, which was filled with fancy-dress clothes. From that box, Megan had pulled out a Harry Potter school robe, a pretend pair of round, black glasses, and a Harry Potter style toy wand. Tony couldn't help but laugh when Megan put on the robe and glasses and then waved the wand in his direction. She looked positively adorable swamped in that big wizard's robe, and with those glasses slipping down her nose. Rummaging through the box himself, Tony discovered another toy wand and a blue, pointy wizard's hat with silver moons and stars on it. He and Megan had then proceeded to take part in a mostly silent magic duel. After a particularly fancy twist of the wrist from Megan, Tony had clutched at his chest and dropped to the floor, a few seconds later the three-year-old had pounced on him and the two of them had engaged in some gentle roughhousing. By the time they finally settled down, Tony was gasping for air and his stomach muscles were cramping up from laughing so hard. Since it was just it was a little after noon, Tony had left Megan to play and gone to make them both some sandwiches for lunch. After that they'd settled down on the couch to watch a few movies.

Which was where they were at present, Megan – still in costume – was curled up at Tony's side, hugging Cubby to her chest and sucking on her thumb, and Tony had his feet propped up on the coffee table and his arms stretched across the back of the couch. They were slowly making their way through the DVDs Tony had purchased the previous day, so far they had watched _Lady and the Tramp_, _Aladdin_, _Mary Poppins_, and_ The Fox and the Hound_. The movie they were currently watching, _Monsters Inc_, was one Tony had never seen before and he was surprised to find that he really enjoyed it. He had been worried that Megan might find the movie frightening because of the monsters, but except for flinching a few times at the beginning Megan seemed rather unfazed by it all, and she'd certainly laughed enough times to reassure him that she was enjoying the movie too. The sound of his cell phone suddenly going off caused Tony to jump in surprise which in turn caused Megan to flinch in alarm. Patting her reassuringly on the head, Tony leaned forward and snatched the cell phone off the coffee table. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.

"DiNozzo," he said.

"Hi, honey, how's dinner coming along?" crooned an annoyingly familiar voice. Tony sighed irritably and slumped back against the couch. "You haven't even started yet, have you?" Steve said accusingly. Tony frowned but remained silent. "I slave away _all_ night long writing up a consent document for you and you can't even prepare dinner for your dear, old friend?"

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Tony said grumpily, hiding his amusement.

"Ouch, Tony, that . . . that really hurts," Steve said sarcastically. "Why don't you make it up to me by making dinner?" he added cheerfully.

Tony sighed again. "What do you want?" he asked wearily. He heard Steve chuckle triumphantly, and knew without having to see it that he was wearing that annoying smug grin of his. "Oh wait, lemme guess; lasagna right?"

"Got it in one, bro. And don't try and fob me off with some of that frozen crap, 'cause I'll know! I want the good, homemade stuff!"

"Hmm . . . I'm wondering if I should warn Lucy that this is the kind of treatment she should be expecting once you two finally get hitched," said Tony, causing his friend to laugh hysterically. Tony glared at his cell phone, waiting for Steve to settle down.

"Oh, Tony!" Steve eventually choked out, still laughing. "Don't get me wrong, I love Lucy to death, but the woman can't cook to save her life!"

"Stevo! Why didn't you say? I had no idea that you had decided to become a househusband," said Tony, smirking when the laugher came to an abrupt end. "I'm proud of yah, bro, this is very forward-thinking of you – I mean, if women can go out and have a career why can't men stay at home and play house? You go man!"

"Funny," said Steve, sounding anything but amused. "Very funny."

Tony chuckled in response. "So, when are you heading over?"

"I've got a few things I need to wrap up here, then I'll head home and change, then I'll swing by your place, so an hour, hour and a half tops."

"Guess I better get started then, huh?"

"Yeah, guess you better," Steve retorted, the smugness back in his voice.

"Alright then, I'll see you later."

"Bye, honey!" Steve replied mockingly, laughing when Tony made a sound of disgust.

Tony hung up the phone and glanced sideways at Megan, who was still engrossed with the movie. "Your uncle Steve is insane!" he told her matter-of-factly, before getting to his feet and heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

A short while later Tony glanced over his shoulder when he heard a key turn in the front door and in stepped Gibbs, dressed in an old Marine corps sweatshirt, baggy jeans and work boots, carrying with him what appeared to be an old tool bag.

"Hey, boss," he called out, getting a grunt and a nod in response.

"Everything go okay today?" Gibbs asked casually, setting his bag down on the floor next to the door, and glancing around the room.

"Yep," said Tony, with just a hint of smugness. "We had a great day."

Gibbs nodded. "Where's Megan?"

"On the couch watching TV," explained Tony.

Gibbs smirked, and crept towards the couch. Tony watched as the older agent leaned over the back of the couch, reached out a hand – and presumably tapped Megan on the head – before he hastily ducked down behind it for cover. Megan's little face suddenly appeared, as she leaned over the armrest and looked around, her eyes finally settling on Tony who was still in the kitchen. Tony shot her a wide grin, and Megan's brow furrowed in confusion before she leaned back and disappeared from view. Gibbs slowly stood up, tapped her again and quickly ducked down. Tony turned away just as Megan's suspicious little face popped out again. He could feel her eyes upon him for several minutes until she finally settled back down to watch her movie. Gibbs was outright grinning now as he slowly rose to his feet; this time however, Megan was ready for him. Gibbs' head had just appeared over the top of the sofa cushions when all of a sudden Megan popped up like a jack-in-the-box and smacked him smartly on the top of his head. Gibbs made a sound that could only be described as a yelp of surprise, which was quickly followed by a bark of laughter as he rose smoothly to his full height, picked Megan up, slung her over his shoulder and began to tickle her mercilessly. Tony, whose mouth had fallen open in shock, gaped at the pair of them for a few minutes until he felt his lips twitch and then he too was grinning and chuckling quietly to himself. He watched as Megan dangled from Gibbs' shoulder, laughing hysterically as the older man continued tickle her sides. After a few more minutes, Gibbs ran a soothing hand over Megan's back, rearranged her so he was now holding her in his arms, with her little legs wrapped around his ribcage, and then carried her towards the kitchen.

"Whatcha cooking?" Gibbs asked, leaning against the counter.

"Lasagna, boss," answered Tony, turning back to said dish.

"DiNozzo, why is she wearing glasses?" Gibbs asked in confusion, apparently just noticing them.

"They're not real, boss, we were just playing dress up today," Tony explained distractedly.

As Tony's back was turned, he didn't see Gibbs raise an eyebrow at him but he did hear the amusement in his boss' voice when he said: "We?"

Tony froze, feeling his face flush. _Shoot!_

Gibbs chuckled. "And what exactly did _you_ dress up as?"

"Uh . . . nothing, boss," said Tony, studiously avoiding his leader's gaze.

"Really?" Gibbs said in a suspiciously light tone of voice, one that Tony didn't trust for an instant. He turned just in time to see Gibbs sitting Megan on top of the counter and then begin to sign to her. Tony gulped. _Oh no! He wouldn't!_ Gibbs glanced up with a smirk on his lips. _He would!_ "A wizard, Tony?" he asked incredulously. _Aaaaagh!_ "I didn't realize you and McGee had so much in common," he continued teasingly, his smirk transforming into his famous half-smile.

"Hey! I resent that! And for your information I only wore the hat," he defended himself. "And I only did that because I was playing with Megs, there's nothing wrong with that is there?"

Gibbs' face registered surprise at first – which sort of confused Tony – then his eyes crinkled at the corners as one of those rare and magnificent grins lit up his face and he shook his head slightly. "Nope, nothing wrong with that at all, Tony," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

After that Tony focused on finishing up dinner while Gibbs occupied Megan. Not long after he had stuck the lasagna in the oven, there was a loud knock at the door closely followed by a call of: "Honey! I'm home!" Tony sighed, and rolled his eyes heavenward. Gibbs, who was stretched out on the floor by the couch playing with Megan and her toys, glanced up and frowned at the door.

"Who the hell is that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Don't worry, boss, it's just my Frat brother Steve," Tony assured him, making his way toward the door. A huge, boyish grin greeted him as he pulled it open. Steve had clearly been home already since he wore a blue checked shirt – which was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows – over a white T-shirt, a pair of blue denim jeans, and sneakers. His blonde hair was still damp, presumably from a hasty shower. In his hand he carried a large brown envelope.

"Is he here yet?" Steve asked in a loud stage whisper. An evil smirk twisted Tony's lips, and he nodded, stepping aside to let his friend enter. Steve practically hopped across the threshold in his eagerness to meet with Tony's formidable boss. "Here you go," he said, shoving the envelope into Tony's chest. "Take a look at that and tell me if there's anything you want me to change."

"Thanks," said Tony, biting back a grin of anticipation.

Steve's eyes scanned the room and settled upon the silver-haired man sitting on the floor next to little Megan. _Aha, _he thought triumphantly. The man stared back at him with a cool and assessing gaze. Not in the least bit perturbed by the man's standoffish expression, Steve pulled on his most charming smile and made a beeline towards the man.

"Hi!" he said emphatically, sticking out his hand. "I'm Steven Adler, and you must be Leroy Jethro second-B-for-bastard Gibbs, a.k.a Tony's boss."

Gibbs stared at Steve's hand, then slowly raised his eyes to the younger man's face but otherwise didn't respond or move to shake his hand.

Steve's smile faltered for a moment as he awkwardly dropped his arm by his side. Behind him, Tony choked back a laugh as he watched his friend receive the standard 'Gibbs-greeting'. Recovering himself, Steve plowed on with his attempt to engage the ex-marine in conversation.

"So, uh . . . Tony tells me you used to be a marine," he said. Stony silence answered him. Tony winced, thinking to himself, _'once a marine always a marine'._ "You must have some pretty interesting war stories, huh?" _Oh it's like watching a train-wreck, _thought Tony suppressing another grin. Gibbs just continued to stare at Steve blankly. Steve, clearly uncomfortable now, cleared his throat and absently scratched his chin. "Did you really build a boat in your basement?" he tried again, genuinely curious since he was still convinced Tony had made that one up. Gibbs' only response was to arch one eyebrow slightly. Tony was now huddled by the door, silently quaking with laughter. "Ah . . . how 'bout I tell you a little 'bout myself?" Steve continued stubbornly, determined to get an actual response from this damned man. "Well I . . . uh I met Tony back in college and . . . um . . . I'm a lawyer by trade …" he trailed off when Gibbs' gaze seemed to harden and his eyebrows contracted into a small frown. Behind them, Tony snorted and made a sound suspiciously like a giggle, hastily retreating to the kitchen when Steve threw a glare in his direction.

Steve turned back to Gibbs and sighed, conceding defeat. He turned his attention to Megan, who had a small plastic horse clutched in one hand, and had been watching the exchange with interest. He gave her a wide smile, which she returned shyly, and tweaked her playfully on the nose.

"Hey, Tony," he called over his shoulder. "Is it alright if I pick her up?"

"She look like a dog to you?" growled Gibbs suddenly, startling Steve.

"Uh . . . n-no," he stammered nervously, quailing slightly under the intensity of the glare he was now receiving. "Um . . . I'm just gonna," he muttered vaguely, waving in the direction of the kitchen and all but running towards it.

Tony met him with an infuriatingly smug grin. Steve could have punched him! He glanced warily over his shoulder, almost collapsing in relief when he saw that Gibbs had turned his attention back to the three-year-old girl by his side. His head whipped back round to his friend; an incredulous expression written across his face.

"Holy crap!" he hissed. "You weren't kidding about that guy! And you put up with him _every_ day! _Willingly!_ Were you dropped on your head as an infant?"

Tony seemed to consider the question a moment. "It's possible," he said mildly with a little smirk on his lips.

"Certainly would explain a lot, DiNozzo."

Steve nearly jumped a foot in the air and squeaked – actually _squeaked_ – in alarm, spinning around on the spot and coming face to face with the steely eyed ex-marine who was now casually leaning his elbows on the counter. He was more than a little disconcerted to see the small smirk curling the corner of Gibbs' mouth. _Oh please, tell me he didn't hear what I just said!_

"What's in the envelope, Tony?" Gibbs asked, not taking his eyes off Steve.

There was laughter in Tony's voice when he answered. "It's a consent document, boss, so I can get full custody of Megan; that way her mother can't try to take her back," he explained.

Gibbs' eyes finally shifted away from Steve and settled upon Tony, a look of approval washing over his features. "That's good thinking, Tony."

"Well actually it was my …" The words died on Steve's lips when the icy blue eyes came to rest upon him again.

Tony chuckled. "Thanks, boss," he said, patting Steve sympathetically on the back. "Keep an eye on dinner for me, Stevo, so I can look at this," he instructed, waving the envelope in his hand.

"You bet yah!" Steve replied gratefully, breaking eye contact from the stern ex-marine with a sense of relief.

Tony pulled the document out of the envelope and settled against the counter across from Gibbs. He read through it twice, finding no problems with it, before handing it to Gibbs who had been hovering over him impatiently to see it for himself. All three men glanced up when there was a sudden knock at the door. Tony frowned in confusion; his two guests were already here and he wasn't expecting anyone else so who could it possibly be. _Hmm, only one way to find out I suppose_, he thought, making his way toward the door. He'd barely gotten the door open when there was a startling cry of "TONY!" and then a familiar red and black clad figure leapt into his arms, he instinctively caught the whirlwind that was Abby with a grunt. Unfortunately, the force of her impact knocked him off balance and before he could so much as flail his arms in order to right it, he felt himself plummeting backwards toward the ground. He got out a strangled cry of "_ABBY!_" just moments before they hit the floor with an almighty thud which knocked all the air out of his lungs. He lay sprawled out on his back for several moments, dazed and dizzy, with Abby's weight pressing down upon him, staring up at the ceiling and struggling to get his breath back; no mean feat.

"Oops," said Abby guiltily.

"Abs, could you please refrain from trying to break my senior field agent?" Gibbs requested sarcastically.

"Sorry, Tony," Abby mumbled, pulling back so she could look him in the face and blushing crimson. "I've just missed you."

"S'okay," he choked out breathlessly. He winced as Abby moved to push herself off of him and his back gave a little twinge of pain. _Aw crap, _he thought miserably, _not again._ As Abby stood up Gibbs' face appeared upside down in his line of vision.

"You alright?" he asked gruffly.

"Define alright," replied Tony jokingly with a little groan, earning himself that infamous half-smile.

"C'mon," Gibbs grunted, stepping around Tony and holding out his hand. Tony sighed and grasped hold of the calloused fingers, letting the older man pull him to his feet. He swayed for a moment, feeling his head spin and throb from where he'd hit it, then let out a squeaky yelp as Abby enveloped him in another crushing bear hug. Gibbs kept a steadying hand on his back to stop him falling over again.

"We've really missed you at the office, Tony! Its sooo boring without you there," Abby gushed.

"Let him breathe, Abs," Gibbs chided gently.

"Oh sorry," she responded meekly, loosening her grip but not releasing the Italian just yet.

Tony rolled his eyes but stood there patiently, unable to return the hug since Abby had his arms pinned at his sides, he knew from experience that it was best to just let her get it out of her system otherwise her head just might explode; and he certainly didn't want that, for one thing it would be extremely messy.

"Uh . . . excuse me," Steve's voice suddenly called out from the kitchen. Gibbs, Tony and Abby all turned to look at him. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on? Like who _you_ are?" he asked, directing the second question to Abby.

Tony grinned at the confused expression on his friend's face. "Steve, this is the lovely Miss Abigail Sciuto, Abs, this is my fraternity brother Steve Adler."

Abby released Tony from her embrace and bounced towards the kitchen, sticking out her hand when she got within reach of the young lawyer. Somewhat warily, Steve accepted the rather exuberant handshake the Goth bestowed upon him.

"Hi, I work with Tony at NCIS, I'm a fo–"

"Forensic scientist," Steve interrupted, realization dawning on his face. "Yeah, Tony's mentioned you . . . however, he never told me how _interesting_ and attractive you are," he finished, pulling that charming grin onto his handsome features.

Tony rolled his eyes again. _Oh, here we go!_ Abby beamed at Steve, and then threw a mock glare in Tony's direction.

"Did he now?" she asked teasingly, narrowing her eyes at Tony who just grinned unrepentantly in response. She turned back to Steve, a gleam in her light green eyes. "Well I've heard _all_ about you," she said smugly.

"Have you now?" he asked, raking his eyes over her figure appreciatively and reminding himself he was already spoken for.

"Mmmhmm," said Abby, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. "Is it true you have a tattoo on your pelvis right above your naughty bits?"

A surprised snort of laughter left Tony's mouth as all the color drained from Steve's face and the smile slipped off his lips. After a few minutes of stunned silence, Steve's mouth began to flap open and closed but no words came out. He swung round and fixed Tony with an accusing glare.

Tony held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, don't look at me! I didn't even know you had a tattoo, never mind down _there!_"

"Then how –?" Steve began, frowning at Abby in confusion.

"Abby's very resourceful," Gibbs explained with a smirk.

Abby gave Steve a mysterious smile, leaving him standing there as she all but skipped towards Megan to give one of her special 'Abby-greetings'. Steve watched her go; feeling bemused, and then turned an incredulous expression on to his friend.

"You have some very . . . _odd_ friends at NCIS, Tony," he said at length.

"You have noooo idea," Tony returned, smirking unabashedly. "So . . . just what _is_ your tattoo of exactly?" he asked curiously.

Steve groaned. He was never going to hear the end of this!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Tony and the others had gathered around the couch to enjoy the meal which the young agent had prepared. Despite the fact that there was still plenty of space on Tony's couch, not to mention an armchair, Abby had removed her platform boots – revealing rainbow striped socks – and had sat with her legs crossed on the floor next to Megan. They had settled into a comfortable silence as they got stuck into the food, but Tony couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer; Steve had refused to answer all of his questions regarding his tattoo and Tony was just dying to know how Abby could possibly have found out about it. He glanced surreptitiously at his friend, who was sitting to his far right – trying to get as much distance from Gibbs (who was on Tony's left) as the couch would allow. Tony grinned, amused by how uneasy Steve felt around Gibbs. _I did try to warn him, _he thought, biting back a laugh.

"So, Abs," he began casually. "Just how did you come by your information regarding the artwork on my fraternity brother's nether regions?"

He snickered when he heard Steve groan. "Can't you just drop it?" he said pleadingly.

Tony flashed him a megawatt grin. "Now, Stevo, you know me better than that," he chided sarcastically.

"Yes I do, unfortunately," muttered Steve irritably.

"So c'mon, Abby, what gives? I know I've mentioned Steve a few times but it's never been anything very detailed," Tony persisted stubbornly. He was a little taken aback when the feisty Goth glanced up at him with a solemn expression gracing her pretty features. He felt his gut twist in dread; somehow he didn't think he was going to like her answer.

"Kate told me, when she was dating him," she explained quietly.

Beside him, Tony felt Gibbs stiffen as his own body tensed at the mention of his deceased partner's name. Abby had just confirmed his worst suspicions and he was suddenly wishing he had kept his big, fat mouth shut. "Oh," he said awkwardly, dropping his gaze to his plate and pushing his food around with his fork. An uncomfortable silence settled upon them.

"Mickey Mouse," Steve blurted out several excruciating minutes of silence later.

"What?" said Tony, throwing a look of confusion in his friend's direction.

"My tattoo," Steve ground out through gritted teeth, his face flushing scarlet. "It's a picture of Mickey Mouse."

A deafening silence followed this statement as Tony, and indeed Gibbs, just sat there and gaped at the young lawyer who was furiously avoiding their gaze, while Abby just glanced away, a little smile twisting her dark lips.

"_Mickey Mouse!_" exclaimed Tony at last. "What kind of grown man, gets a picture of _Mickey Mouse_ tattooed on his private parts?"

"It's NOT on my private parts it's ABOVE my private parts!" Steve defended himself emphatically. "And I was _DRUNK_ alright! Really, really drunk! You remember I told you about it, my brother's bachelor party –!"

"Oooooh," said Tony, realization dawning as he recalled the story. "You mean the one where you woke up in a hotel with a really f–!"

"–Lovely brunette!" Steve cut across him, his blue eyes flashing warningly.

"Actually, if I recall correctly I believe you described her as being a blimp of a woman who you feared might _eat_ you if she woke up and discovered you in bed next to her," Tony reminded him jovially, struggling to contain his amusement.

"Tony!" Abby scolded.

"What? That's what he said!"

"Steve!" she snapped, turning on the lawyer.

"What? It's true, I nearly had a coronary when I opened my eyes and found her next to me!" Steve said defensively.

"Honestly," she tutted rolling her eyes.

"I still don't see what this has to do with your tattoo," Tony persevered with a chuckle.

"I'm getting to that!" Steve snapped. "Anyway, after I dragged my ass outta bed and got the hell out of there, I went home and had a shower to help me sober up . . . and while I was in there, I looked down and . . . there _he_ was!"

Tony couldn't hold it in any longer; he threw his head back and roared with laughter. He was delighted to hear Gibbs' gruff bark of laughter join in with his own and then a moment later Abby was giggling along with them too. Vaguely he was aware of Steve groaning in embarrassment and covering his still blushing face with his hands. Tony collapsed back against the couch, laughing hysterically, and felt someone – presumably Abby – rescue his plate before it could slip off his lap. Tears were streaming down his face, his belly ached, and he was gasping for breath and yet he still couldn't get his laughter under control.

"Alright, alright!" Steve grumbled. "We get it, it's _funny_, and I will probably _never_ live it down, ha-ha, let's move on now, shall we?"

Tony took a deep breath, in an effort to compose himself. "Okay," he said breathlessly, wiping his eyes. "I'm okay now." He lasted all of five seconds before dissolving into another fit of hysterical laughter.

Steve growled in exasperation. "That does it!" he snapped. He leaned over and placed his plate on the coffee table. "There's only one way to deal with this now!"

"What's that?" asked Abby.

"The Homer Simpson way!" Steve stated dramatically. Aware of what was coming next, yet still laughing – not the least bit bothered – Tony didn't even attempt to defend himself when Steve turned toward him with a flourish, and launched himself at him, wrapping his long fingers around Tony's neck and pretending to strangle him. If anything Tony just laughed harder.

"Maybe – maybe, Lu-Lucy s-should get a tattoo . . . a tattoo of Min-Minnie M-Mouse!" Tony choked out between giggles. "That way . . . that way y-you'd be a matching . . . s-set!"

Steve growled in annoyance and tightened his grip, not enough to cut off Tony's airway, but enough to make him choke a little and disrupt his laughter. By now Tony's sides were aching from laughing so hard, and his vision was blurred from the tears running down his cheeks which felt warm and flushed and he was sucking in hiccupping gulps of air. He grabbed hold of Steve's forearms and tried to pull them off, but he was too weak from giddiness to have any effect, so he tried lurching sideways, in an attempt to throw him off, but wound up colliding hard with Gibbs' shoulder instead.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked, trying to sound stern but not quite managing it.

Tony was in no condition to feel chastened, or worried, or even remotely scared and decided to push his luck even further. "Help, boss! The s-sissy lawyer . . . is trying t-to throttle meeehehehehee!" he cried, the last part coming out as an unmanly, rather high-pitched giggle as Abby joined in the fun and started to tickle his ribcage with her nimble fingers.

"I'll give you sissy lawyer, DiN– OW!" Steve yelped abruptly, as something flesh colored connected with the back of his skull with a strange, hollow knock. "What the h– OW! OW!" he cried out again, releasing Tony, as more blows rained down upon his head.

Tony – regaining his senses, in light of the situation – blinked up in astonishment to see Megan hanging onto to Steve's back like a baby monkey, her little face twisted up in an expression of fury, and brandishing a doll in her hand like a wooden club. Tony very nearly fell back laughing again; it seemed like Megan had mistaken Steve's roughhousing for a genuine threat and had come to his defense. Megan raised her little hand above her head, the one clutching the doll by its feet, and swiftly brought it down again; ready to deliver another blow.

"No!" Tony cried out, springing forward and grabbing her hand before it could hit its target. Megan stared at him in surprise. Disentangling her limbs, Tony dragged her off Steve's back and pulled her onto his lap, wrestling the doll out of her grasp and tossing it out of reach. He turned her to face him, and she frowned up at him in confusion, shooting a quick glare in Steve's direction who was gingerly rubbing his head where she'd struck him. "Boss …" he began, but Gibbs had already put a finger under her chin and tilted her face toward him. He began to sign, no doubt explaining that Steve had just been playing and had not been trying to hurt Tony.

After the explanation, Megan dropped her gaze and folded her arms tightly against her chest. She was still frowning and her lower lip was trembling as if she were about to cry. Tony, Steve and Abby glanced uneasily at each other while Gibbs smoothed a large, calloused hand over Megan's blonde head.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked nervously, astonished by how quickly the atmosphere had changed; one minute they were all happy and boisterous and joking around the next they were silent and tense.

"No-one likes knowing they made a mistake," he explained sagely. "Especially when you're not even four years old yet."

"It was my fault," said Steve awkwardly. "I should know better."

"Just a misunderstanding," said Gibbs, earning himself a surprised look from Steve. "Can't be helped now."

Tony tugged Megan closer to him and pulled her into a hug. She remained stiff for a few minutes before finally relaxing into the embrace; burying her face against his chest and fisting her hands in his shirt.

"Hey, Abs, can you pass me Cubby?" said Tony, nodding in the bear's direction.

"Cubby?" she asked in bemusement.

"That little grubby teddy bear over there," he explained, pointing at it.

"Awww cute!" she exclaimed, picking it up and handing it to him.

Tony handed the bear to Megan who gave him a fierce squeeze and snuggled further into Tony's embrace. The others retrieved their plates and began eating again, Steve starting up light conversation by asking Abby questions about the kind of work she did. Tony and Gibbs remained silent; Gibbs finishing his dinner and Tony just holding Megan. Eventually, Megan pulled away and slid off his lap, she tapped Steve on the knee, made the sign for 'sorry' before wandering off to play with her toys. Tony stood up and retrieved his plate from the coffee table – his food now cold – and went to dispose of it in the kitchen. Gibbs followed at his heels and emptied his mostly empty plate into the trash. Dumping their plates in the sink, they left the kitchen and headed in the direction of the hallway. Gibbs paused and glanced over his shoulder.

"C'mon, Mickey," he called. "Time to go to work!"

Tony let out a surprised bark of laughter as Steve spun around on the couch and stared incredulously at Gibbs, who had already turned and walked away a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh that's funny, agent Gibbs," Steve yelled at Gibbs' retreating back, sounding slightly annoyed. "Tony didn't tell me you had a sense of humor!"

Tony chuckled and followed Gibbs to his spare bedroom. As Gibbs flicked on the light, Tony glanced around at all the mess cluttering up the room and puffed out a huge sigh. "So . . . where do we start?" he asked.

* * *

A few hours later, Tony found himself somewhat surprised by how much he, Gibbs and Steve had accomplished so far. They had dragged out the dusty cardboard boxes filled with junk (which was accompanied by Tony's sneezing), demolished the old wooden dresser and the three dining room chairs – Tony and Steve taking a somewhat juvenile pleasure in doing so – removed the old lamp, and the piece of exercise equipment, and had pulled down the dusty old set of blinds (which was also followed by more sneezing on Tony's part). With everything piled up in the hallway, the three men had worked together to roll up the hideous green carpet. They had then begun the arduous task of hauling all of the junk down three flights of stairs to Gibbs' truck that was waiting for them in parking lot. Tony groaned as he dumped the last box into the back of Gibbs' pickup truck; he was tired, he was filthy, and his back ached like hell.

"Ugh! Feels like my arms are gonna drop off!" Steve complained.

"Suck it up, boys, still got work to do," Gibbs grunted, leading the way back to the apartment, although Tony couldn't help but notice that his limp was more pronounced than usual.

Tony and Steve all but dragged their feet up the three flights of stairs, while Gibbs practically sprinted up as if the pain in his bad knee didn't bother him in the slightest. Steve glowered as Gibbs disappeared round another corner and started up the last set of stairs.

"Jeez!" Steve exclaimed grumpily. "He's like the Terminator or something! Where does all his energy come from?"

Tony chuckled. "Beats me, must be a Marine thing or something."

Steve snorted and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Gibbs was waiting for them at Tony's front door, wielding wallpaper scrapers in his hand. Steve and Tony groaned at the sight of them; Gibbs just smirked in response.

"C'mon, if we work as a team we should get all the wallpaper off tonight," he said, sounding annoyingly upbeat and un-Gibbs-like.

"Haven't we earned a coffee break yet, boss?" Tony whined.

"Coffee can wait."

Tony's mouth fell open in shock. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Gibbs?"

Gibbs actually had the audacity to laugh. He strode over to where Abby was sitting on the floor, playing with Megan. "C'mon, Abs, you can help too."

"You got it, Gibbs!" she replied enthusiastically, springing to her feet. She linked arms with the ex-Marine and the pair made their way towards the now empty spare bedroom, Megan trailing along behind them.

"You know," Steve said in a conspiratorial whisper. "I actually think he's _enjoying_ this!"

"Of course he is," Tony grumbled softly. "Gibbs loves projects like this!"

"I should have run for it while I had a chance," lamented Steve. He visibly brightened up just a moment later. "Actually, I could make a grand escape right now while the coast is clear!"

"Oh no you don't!" said Tony, latching onto Steve's upper arm. "You're not going anywhere!"

"Aw, come on, man!" Steve whined, as Tony dragged him down the hall. "We could bust out together. Whaddaya say?"

"No way, my kid needs a bedroom and _Uncle _Steve is gonna help her get it!"

"Damn! Playing the 'uncle-card' already – you sly bastard! Alright fine, I surrender, take me to your leader," Steve grumbled good-naturedly.

"Pick a wall," Gibbs instructed, as they entered the spare bedroom. He and Abby had started working on a wall each and already much of the shabby wallpaper was now littering the hardwood floor in little piles. Megan was giggling away to herself as she 'helped', tearing large sections of paper off with her hands and tossing it to the floor with a flourish. Tony and Steve took the remaining two walls and set to work. Tony was soon joined by Megan who decided he needed 'help' removing the wallpaper on his chosen wall. It wasn't long before Tony had abandoned his scraper in favor of tearing off the paper with his hands like Megan, turning the whole thing into a game, seeing who could rip off the most paper in a single tear. As his and Megan's laughter filled the silence, Tony was unaware of the amused smiles his three friends were now sporting as they observed the ongoing antics. He lifted Megan onto his shoulders so she could reach the paper above his head; keeping a firm hold of her left ankle so she didn't fall. Eventually though, she got tired of ripping off the paper and demonstrated her boredom by tugging painfully on Tony's hair to indicate she wanted down. Tony set her down on the floor and retrieved his scraper. To amuse herself Megan started kicking up the piles of wallpaper on the floor as if they were piles of autumn leaves, that is, until Gibbs caught her by the arm and gave her a stern warning in sign language. Megan pouted at that and stalked haughtily from the room, only to return a few moments later, armed with her Harry Potter wand. Tony watched in morbid fascination as the three-year-old snuck up behind Gibbs and then jabbed him sharply in the thigh with the wand; no doubt hoping to turn the ex-Marine into a toad. Tony had to admire her daringness. With surprising agility, Gibbs spun round with a loud 'ROAR!' Megan let out a startled shriek followed almost immediately by a squeal of laughter as Gibbs scooped her up and started tickling her ruthlessly.

"Gibbs, I had no idea that at heart you're just a big old tickle-monster!" Abby said teasingly.

Gibbs flashed Abby a quick grin before setting Megan back on the floor and sending her off with a gentle pat to the backside. As the adults continued to work, Megan popped in and out of the room at regular intervals; sometimes trailing toys in behind her; sometimes sharing brief conversations with Abby or Gibbs; and sometimes just trying to stir up mischief. By the time all the shabby wallpaper was completely off the walls and scattered across the floor, Tony's lower back was loudly complaining with a dull, pulsing ache, and his eyes were stinging from exhaustion. Unfortunately, Gibbs wouldn't permit them to take a break until all the paper was swept up and stuffed into garbage bags.

"Ugh!" groaned Tony as he collapsed onto his couch. A moment later Steve dropped down heavily beside him, releasing a satisfied sigh as he sank into the couch cushions. "God, that feels good!" Tony exclaimed happily, unbelievably relieved to be off his feet.

"Please don't talk like that when I'm sitting so close to you," Steve said jokingly.

Tony rolled his head to the side and glared at Steve's profile, annoyed to see that he had his eyes closed. "Don't flatter yourself!" he scoffed. Steve opened his eyes and turned to look at him. He grinned mischievously and then opened his mouth to reply.

"Who wants coffee?" Abby called out cheerfully, cutting off any retort Steve may have made.

"ME!" chorused Tony and Steve.

"You got it, boys. How 'bout you, Gibbs, or do I even have to ask?" Tony glanced over at the armchair where his boss was currently sprawled. A half-smile twitched the ex-Marine's lips as he shot an amused look in Abby's direction. "Right, four coffees, and a Sippy-cup of milk coming right up! Steve?"

"Hello?" he called back.

"How do you take you're coffee?" she asked.

"Uh, cream no sugar," he answered. "And none of that hazelnut crap Tony likes!"

"You bet yah!"

Tony glared one final time at Steve for the hazelnut remark, before closing his eyes and twisting around so he could stretch out completely on the couch; grinning but otherwise ignoring Steve's half-hearted attempt to shove his legs off his lap.

"You're such a pain in the ass!" Steve grumbled, giving Tony's legs another gentle shove.

"It's my couch, if you don't like it, Mickey Mouse, I suggest you find somewhere else to sit," Tony replied smugly. Steve growled in annoyance and muttered something that sounded like 'stupid tattoo' under his breath. Tony chuckled slightly and laid his forearm across his eyes. "I can't believe we got all that stuff done in one night!"

"Really? 'Cause my arms believe it, and my legs, and my back . . ." Steve said sarcastically, listing off the things on his fingers.

"Okay we get it, Stevo," Tony cut him off, opening his eyes and repositioning his arm so it was now pillowed beneath his head.

"Mm, yah can get a lot done if yah put in the right effort," Gibbs mused mildly, slouching further into the chair. "Doesn't hurt to have some company to help out either."

Tony smiled at that. "That reminds me, I wanna thank you guys for helping out tonight," he said with feeling. "I really appreciate it; dunno where'd I'd be without you."

"Probably still with a spare room full of junk," Steve said teasingly. "Ow!" he yelped, as Abby suddenly appeared next to the couch and delivered a punch to his upper arm. Tony chuckled while Steve rubbed his arm and pouted a little dramatically at the perky Goth.

"You're welcome, Tony!" she said, beaming at him. "You know we love you and would do anything for you." Tony arched his eyebrows, his face lighting up with a devious grin. "Well, maybe not _anything!_" she hastily corrected herself, causing Tony to laugh. "But you know, anything within reason."

"I know, Abs, thanks," said Tony, smiling up at her affectionately.

She returned the look with a broad grin and dipped gracefully to bestow a sweet kiss on his forehead. Tony's smile widened.

"Hey! What do I have to do to get a kiss around here?" Steve asked petulantly.

"You're engaged," Tony reminded him. "So leave Abby alone."

"Who says I was talking to her?" asked Steve, waggling his eyebrows at Tony. Tony shot him a horrified look and threw himself off the couch, landing with a loud thud on the floor. "Aha!" Steve crowed triumphantly, twisting around so he was now stretched out on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. "That's better!" he declared happily.

Tony picked himself off the floor. "Damn!" he said. "How did I not see that coming?"

"You didn't anticipate, DiNozzo," Gibbs said without heat, the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smirk.

"This one's on me, boss," said Tony, smacking the back of his own head.

Abby rolled her eyes and clomped back to the kitchen.

"Gimme back my couch!" demanded Tony, climbing to his feet.

"Make me!" Steve challenged.

"Very well!" exclaimed Tony, doing his famous Sean Connery impersonation. "You leave me no choice!" With that he grabbed hold of both Steve's legs and bodily dragged him off the couch before Steve could so much as reach out and save himself from falling.

"Hey!" Steve yelled indignantly as he was dumped on the floor. Tony cackled as he stole his place back on the couch. He barely had time to settle in before Steve pounced. Neither of them saw Gibbs shake his head and roll his eyes in exasperation as the pair of them wrestled on the couch like a couple of hyperactive ten-year-olds.

"Ahem!" someone coughed a few moments later. Tony and Steve – who was currently in a headlock with his hand fisted in Tony's hair – froze, and slowly looked up to see Abby standing over them, two cups of coffee clutched in her hands, and one thin, black eyebrow arched sardonically. "Do you boys want these or should I get a wading pool and fill it with mud so you can put on a _real_ show?"

Tony and Steve looked at each other – not an easy task, considering Steve was still in a headlock and Tony had trouble angling his head due the fist in his hair – and then quickly broke apart. They rearranged themselves so they were now sitting in a calm, civilized manner side by side.

"No, coffee's good, Abby," Tony said sheepishly, accepting the cup she passed to him. "Thanks."

"Thank you," said Steve demurely.

"You're welcome!" she chirped, smiling brightly. "Too bad about that show though," she added cheekily, giving them a saucy wink. Steve gaped at her while Tony was annoyed to feel a blush staining his cheeks. As if to make matters worse they heard a soft chuckle coming from Gibbs' direction. Tony suppressed a groan and tried his best to hide behind his coffee mug.

A few minutes later, Abby returned from the kitchen with her own cup of coffee and Megan's Sippy-cup – which she handed to the three-year-old on her way around the couch. She took the seat next to Tony, crossing her legs and cradling the mug in her hands and inhaling the rich aroma of coffee with a satisfied sound. Tony grabbed the TV remote and started flicking through stations, finally settling on an episode of _The Big Bang Theory_, a surprisingly entertaining show Abby had introduced him to a few months ago. Megan had crawled onto Gibbs' lap and was alternating between taking big gulps from her SpongeBob Sippy-cup and making Cubby the bear dance on Gibbs' thigh. Gibbs sipped at his coffee and watched her with a fond smile. A comfortable silence fell over them. Tony had just started to relax, sinking back into the couch cushions, when Abby suddenly turned toward him, a determined look and eager smile lighting up her face.

"So, Tony, about Megan's birthday party …"

"Party?" Tony squeaked in confusion.

"Yeah – so I was wondering, do you wanna have the party here or maybe at Gibbs' house or would you rather rent a space?" she continued, unfazed by the look of utter bewilderment on Tony's face.

"Wait, what party?"

"Megan's fourth birthday party of course!" she exclaimed impatiently (the _duh!_ was implied).

"Who said anything about a birthday party?" he demanded irritably.

"_I _did!" she replied in a tone that suggested the answer was obvious, and thinking about it Tony realized that it was. "Now about decorations –"

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Tony. "You can't just go ahead and plan a party for _my_ kid without _my_ permission!"

"Of course I can," she countered, causing Tony to gape at her incredulously. "I mean if _I_ don't who else will?"

"Abby!" he cried in frustration.

"Tony!" she yelled back mockingly.

"Boss!" he said, looking beseechingly at the ex-Marine.

"Gibbs!" said Abby, turning to him also, clearly expecting his support on the matter.

Gibbs sighed, glancing between the pair of them, looking very much like he'd rather face one of his angry ex-wives than have to deal with this particular disagreement.

"Abs," he began slowly, his tone low and gentle making Tony smile because he could tell without having to hear anything else that Gibbs was siding with him and not Abby for once. Abby must have realized it too since she quickly cut him off just as he opened his mouth again.

"No, Gibbs! We _have_ to have this party!" she stated emphatically, smacking a fist against her thigh to embellish her point. Tony sighed and rolled his eyes and then yelped when Abby smacked him hard in the arm. "_Tony!_ You've already missed three birthdays! _Three!_" she repeated, holding up three fingers as if to make absolutely sure Tony understood. "That is unacceptable!" Tony blinked at that, feeling slightly hurt. "I know it's not your fault, Tony," she added hastily, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. "But this is her first birthday that we get to celebrate together as a family – it's our chance to make up for all the ones we missed – and we need to make it as special as we possibly can so that Megan can always remember the first birthday she spent with her Daddy. After everything she's been through don't you think she deserves that? Don't you think _you_ deserve that, Tony?"

Tony sat there, staring at Abby for several minutes, feeling his resolve crumble. How could he say no to her after a speech like that? He also realized that she was right, about all of it. He'd missed so much of Megan's life already and he really did want to do everything he could to make up for it, and if having a big, over-the-top birthday party with lots of decorations, and balloons and presents accomplished just a little of that then hell he would do it! He glanced over at Gibbs who was staring back at him, wearing an expression that seemed to say: _'she has a good point.'_

"I don't get it," said Steve abruptly. Everyone stared at him incredulously.

"What's not to get?" demanded Abby. "I'm talking about making Megan's fourth birthday as special –!"

"No, no, no!" Steve interrupted. "Not _that!_ I don't get why a hot chick like that would hang around with a bunch of nerdy guys who spend all their time reading comic books and eating takeout food!" Steve explained, referring to the television show. He tore his gaze off the TV long enough to notice everyone was glaring at him. "_What?_"

"You're an idiot," Tony declared.

"Hey! I resemble that," replied Steve, flashing that cheeky, boyish grin of his.

Tony rolled his eyes, and turned back to Abby. "Okay, Abs, you win. What about decorations?"

Abby let out a squeal of joy, almost knocking Tony's coffee mug out of his hand as she lunged forward to give him a firm one-armed hug. "_Oh-my-God_, Tony, this is going to be so awesome! I'm so excited!" Abby chirped, clapping her hands to express her excitement. "Okay, so we need balloons, lots of balloons – I mean what's a party without balloons? And we need a big birthday banner – ooh! – and streamers! Oh and a big cake; I know this really great bakery, they make the coolest cakes and they can make them look like anything, this one time they had one that looked like Simba from The Lion King …"

Tony settled back into the couch and smiled, letting Abby ramble on about her party plans. He glanced over at Gibbs and saw that the man was wearing one of those patiently amused smiles. A sharp poke to the ribs had him turning his attention back to Abby. Once she was assured she had his undivided attention she started bombarding him again with more party ideas. Tony remained silent, trying his best to take in everything she was saying and not really managing it. Somewhere along the way the topic changed to their plans for tomorrow – a discussion Tony was relieved that he could actually contribute to. It was decided that he and Gibbs would head to the hardware store in the morning to pick out paint for Megan's bedroom along with any supplies they needed to decorate with. Once that was done they would meet up with Abby at the mall and go shopping for bedroom furniture; a prospect Tony was dreading, Abby had a way of dragging simple shopping trips out so that they lasted for several hours. After that they would all head back to Tony's apartment and begin the process of decorating Megan's new room. Steve was good enough to offer to swing by at some point in the afternoon to help them out.

"You sure you won't find that too strenuous?" Tony asked, feigning concern. "Doing an _honest_ day's work, two days in a row?" he added teasingly, fighting to bite back a grin and failing miserably.

"Asshole!" Steve swore irritably, elbowing Tony in the ribs. Tony just laughed with glee.

A loud yawn from Megan reminded them all just how late it was getting. So while Gibbs went off to get the little one settled for the night, Abby and Steve helped Tony clean up in the kitchen before saying their goodbyes. By the time Tony stepped into his bedroom, Megan was sound asleep and Gibbs was preparing to leave.

"So . . . shopping with Abby, that should be fun," Tony observed sardonically.

Gibbs snorted. "Be grateful you're not married; nothing worse than clothes shopping with the wife, particularly if she's trying to decide what _you_ should wear!"

Tony gave a dramatic little shudder. "Thanks again, boss."

The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched as he rolled his eyes. "You don't have to keep saying that, Tony," he replied, making his way toward the front door.

"I know, I just want you to know that I'm grateful," Tony pressed on stubbornly.

Gibbs shook his head fondly, letting a full blown smile light up his features for a few seconds. He opened Tony's front door and clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tony, bright and early!"

"Early?" Tony repeated, with a little chuckle. "But not _too_ early, right, boss? I mean, it is a Saturday after all, and I'm actually off for once and we both know how rare _that_ is! So when you say 'bright and early' you mean like late morning, right?"

Gibbs' answering smile could only be described as being evil. Without another word he stepped out into the hallway and made his way towards the stairs.

"Boss?" Tony called after him desperately. "You're not gonna wake me up at the crack of dawn are you?" Gibbs ignored the question and disappeared round the corner. "Boss!" Tony yelled in a last ditch effort. It was no use though, there was still no response. "Aww man!" he exclaimed, stamping his foot like a grumpy five-year-old. With a sigh he closed the door and decided he better get to bed.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Thank you all for the awesome reviews I really do appreciate it. Sorry as always for how long this chapter took me to write but at times it felt like I had to wrestle the words out of my brain. Hope you enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think and I'll try very hard to update sooner_

_Kind regards, All Hail Hufflepuff_

_P.S. if you have any ideas on how you think Megan's bedroom should look or indeed any ideas about her birthday party please let me know and if I like your ideas I shall be sure to use them!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **

_This chapter is shorter than I planned, I really wanted to include the whole shopping trip in this one, but considering how ridiculously long it has been since I last updated (I think it was March or something! Eep!) I decided to just upload as it is so that you at least have **something. **Sorry about the large gap between updates, life got rather hectic there; my eldest dog had a major health crisis and I've started a new job which has been eating into my writing time, so I hope you'll forgive me. So think of this as part one of the shopping day with the gang and I'll try very hard to have part two up soon. Again I would just like to thank everyone who read and reviewed, it means a lot. Okay I'll shut up now._

_P.S. Bold italics signifies when somone is speaking and signing simultaneously._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Tony slowly woke to the sensation of having a wet thigh, which his sleep addled brain found extremely confusing. He pushed himself onto his elbows, squinting around the semi-darkened bedroom. _Need light, _he thought drowsily. Stretching over he flicked on the bedside lamp and glanced up at the ceiling, checking for a leak but finding no sign of one. _That's weird._ Frowning, he pulled back the covers and discovered a large wet patch spreading between his thigh and Megan who was sprawled on her stomach, fast asleep. Even when he noticed the smell it took a few seconds for his sleep-clogged brain to catch up with his senses. And then with a growing sense of horror he realized that Megan had wet the bed! He took a deep, steadying breath; trying to fight his natural reaction. _Calm down, Tony, _he told himself, _you're an adult . . . you can handle this._ He glanced down at the wet patch staining the leg of his sweatpants. _Aaaaaaaaaagh! I'm covered in PEE! Pee that isn't my own! Aaaaaaaaaaaaggh!_ Realizing he was descending into panic, he did the only thing he knew would calm him down and gave himself a smack to the head. _Get a grip of yourself, _his inner voice chided, _you're a father now, you need to be able to handle these situations!_

"Ew! Ew! Ew!" he muttered, peeling back the comforter which was also damp. "Oh boy," he sighed, mentally preparing himself to deal with this.

Ever so gently he shook Megan's shoulder, it took a few minutes but after some grumbling she opened her eyes, aiming a baleful glare in Tony's general direction, that is, until she registered that she was wet. Very slowly, she sat up and then plucked at her pajama bottoms. She glanced up at Tony and then quickly dropped her gaze to the mattress. Before he knew it, her lower lip was wobbling and suddenly she was crying her little heart out. That threw everything into perspective. Cleaning up didn't seem so daunting in the face of his daughter's distress; he was her Daddy and he was going to fix this! Spurred into action Tony jumped out of bed, picked Megan up by the armpits and deposited her onto the floor. He dropped to his knees and rummaged under his bed until he found Megan's suitcase. Dragging it out, he retrieved a fresh set of pajamas and underwear and then took Megan to the bathroom to clean her up. By the time Megan was dry and dressed in a pair of Winnie the Pooh pajamas, her cheeks were red and blotchy, wet from her tears, and her little chest was shuddering with her hiccupping sobs. Tony got down on one knee and dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue, feeling inexplicably guilty about the whole situation even though he knew that was ridiculous.

'_D-O-N'-T – C-R-Y,' _he told her, fingerspelling the words. _'I'm N-O-T – M-A-D.'_

Megan gave a great big sniff and mopped her eyes with her sleeve. She seemed to hesitate a moment and then she held out her arms, it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was asking for and Tony instantly looped an arm around her small frame, pulling her into a reassuring hug. He held her snug against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her back, waiting for the last of her sobs to die down. When they finally did he pulled back and gave her a smile which, after a moment's hesitation, she returned shyly. Returning to the bedroom, Tony rescued Cubby – who thankfully had been resting on Megan's pillow and therefore hadn't gotten wet – he handed the bear to Megan and then proceeded to strip the bed. He stuffed everything into his laundry basket, wishing more than ever that he owned a washing machine and dryer instead of having to share a dark, creepy, smelly old laundry room that was all the way down in the basement. _There's no way I'm going down there at this time of night, so I'll just have to make do._ He stared at the bare mattress for a few minutes, contemplating the dark stain, and realized he had no idea what to do next. The only experience he had with this kind of situation was the months following his mother's death when he'd started wetting the bed as a result of his nightmares. He could still vividly remember waking up that first morning, soaked in his own urine, feeling deeply ashamed of himself for wetting the bed like a baby, and terrified of what his father's reaction might be if he found out. Fortunately for him, the housekeeper, Rosaria, had caught him with his wet sheets, trying to figure out how to work the washing machine and had stepped in to help him.

Rosaria had been like a lifesaver, not only had she kept the incident (and the ones that followed) a secret, and also cleaned up after every accident, but she had also gone out and purchased him rubber bed sheets to prevent further damage to his mattress. The two of them had formed a strong bond after that, whenever Tony's father was out of town (and he wasn't being shipped off to summer camps or boarding schools) he would follow Rosaria around the house, helping with her chores and learning to speak Spanish. At times, Rosaria's friendship was the only thing that made living under his father's roof bearable and for that he would be forever grateful to her. To this day the two of them still remained close, and Tony made a point of checking in with her at least once a week. _That reminds me, I have to call her and tell her about Megan. Man, is she going to be surprised! _

Unfortunately, none of that helped him to figure out how he was going to clean his mattress. His first instinct was to call Gibbs and ask him what to do, but a quick glance at the alarm clock – which told him it was almost two in the morning – made him think better of it. It was late, Gibbs was most likely asleep by now, and after everything the other man had done for him already, Tony really didn't feel good about waking him up and bothering him with something like this. Then he thought of Abby; she was one of the smartest people he knew – surely she would know of a way to resolve his current problem! But he quickly dismissed the idea for the same reasons he decided against calling Gibbs. _Suppose I can always Google it, _he realized after another moment of contemplation. With that thought he made his way to the living room and got Megan settled on the couch, draping a blanket over her as she curled up to sleep. He hurried back to the bedroom to get himself cleaned up and changed into a fresh pair of boxers, and then returned to the living room where he powered up his laptop.

Almost two hours later, Tony stumbled back into the living room, a blue woolen blanket under one arm, and two pillows under the other. The urine had now been banished from his mattress thanks to some internet advice; unfortunately, there was a lingering smell of vinegar (one of the recommended ingredients to deal with the stain) and the fact that Tony's only comforter was scrunched up in his laundry basket, awaiting to be washed. So that left him with the couch to sleep on, which was going to be tricky, what with Megan sprawled out at one end. Despite the fact that his entire body ached with exhaustion, and his eyes felt like a thousand needles had been stuck into them, he still found the energy to slip a pillow under Megan's head and adjust her so that she wasn't dangling precariously at the edge of the sofa cushion. With a grateful sigh of relief, Tony settled at the opposite end of the couch, spreading his blanket out so it covered the both of them. Yawning, he stretched out – doing his best to keep his feet away from Megan's face – and fell asleep almost at once.

* * *

Gibbs was in an unusually cheerful mood today, not even the three flights of stairs to Tony's apartment could dampen it. Perhaps the cause of his good mood was the prospect of a trip to the hardware store (something he always found enjoyable), perhaps it was because he was eager to really get to work on fixing up Megan's new bedroom, or perhaps it was just knowing he would be spending the whole day (hopefully) with two of his favorite people and closest friends plus a little girl who had so quickly, and so effortlessly wormed her way into his affections. It also didn't hurt that he had made good on his threat, turning up at Tony's doorstep when it just barely past seven, it wasn't quite the crack of dawn but he knew Tony would complain just the same; and yes, he was perfectly aware that he had a twisted sense of humor, but Gibbs had never denied being a bastard. Suppressing a chuckle, he let himself into Tony's apartment. The place was still and silent; clearly the two residents were still asleep. Smirking to himself, Gibbs made to move towards the bedroom but stopped short when he noticed a bare foot dangling off the end of the couch. _What the?_ Frowning, he stepped over to the couch and shook his head in bewilderment when he found Tony and Megan sprawled on their stomachs at opposite ends of the couch in almost mirror images of each other. There was a blanket on the floor and another one tangled around Tony's waist. Both of them had their arms wrapped around their pillows and their faces turned away from the TV. As he stood there, trying to figure out why his senior field agent would camp out on the couch when he had a perfectly good bed, he couldn't help but notice that Megan was wearing a different set of pajamas from the ones he'd put her in the night before.

"DiNozzo," he said, giving the younger man's shoulder a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up." No response. "C'mon, Tony, wake up," he repeated, shaking Tony's shoulder with a little more force. Tony grumbled under his breath and buried his face further into his pillow but otherwise remained fast asleep. "We got a lot to do today, Tony, so get your lazy ass up!" Still nothing. By now, Gibbs was getting a little concerned; never in his experience had it been _this_ difficult to wake Tony up, and it was taking all of Gibbs' self-restraint not to switch into Gunny mode and start barking orders. "Not getting any younger here, Tony, so wake up! Tony, _Tony!_"

"Noooo, Abby, I don't wanna dog collar!" Tony mumbled thickly, which caused Gibbs to snort in amusement.

Clearly the gentle approach wasn't going to work today, so that left Gibbs with no other option. "DiNozzo!" he yelled.

"Just-resting-my-eyes-boss!" Tony yelled blearily, shooting up like some bad fifties horror movie Mummy. Gibbs smirked, as Tony sat there – his hair in complete disarray – and slowly took in his surroundings. At length he peered fuzzily up and Gibbs and said: "Huh?"

"Good morning, Tony!" Gibbs said cheerily.

"Boss?" said Tony in confusion, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing in my living room?"

"Better question, what are _you_ doing in your living room?"

Tony's brow furrowed at the question. "I was . . . I was . . . what time's it?"

"After seven."

Tony groaned and flopped back down on the couch, covering his face with his hands. "Why, boss? _Why?_" he all but sobbed, drawing the last word out dramatically.

"Told yah I'd be here bright and early," Gibbs said unrepentantly. "Gonna answer my question now?"

"Question?"

"Yeah," said Gibbs impatiently. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Oh that," said Tony, uncovering his face and sitting back up. "Well, Megan kinda . . . uh . . . wet the bed last night." Gibbs raised his eyebrows in surprise; he wasn't quite sure what answer he'd been expecting but it certainly wasn't that. He opened his mouth to say something – precisely what that something was he had no idea – but before he could figure it out, Tony had interrupted him. "It was okay, though! I mean, Megan got a little upset but I managed to calm her down . . . and I wasn't too sure how to clean up at first but I checked up online and found some advice on what to do . . . so everything worked out alright."

"Hell, Tony! Why didn't you call me?"

Tony shrugged. "It was late; I didn't want to wake you."

"You know I don't give a damn about that, something like this happens again and you feel like you need help, you call me, no matter how late it is!"

Tony's mouth curled into a small, shy smile. "Okay, boss."

"Well, c'mon, up and at'em," he ordered briskly.

"But, boss –!" Tony whined.

"No buts, DiNozzo, we got a lot to do," Gibbs cut him off effortlessly. He had already moved towards Megan and was gently coaxing her to wake up. "Paint's not gonna buy itself."

Tony grumbled under his breath like a sullen teenager but disentangled himself from the blanket and stood up. He stood there for several seconds until suddenly that huge, megawatt grin of his lit up his face. "I'm gonna go for a shower, boss, why don't you get Megan dressed? That way we'll be quicker."

Gibbs couldn't help but eye Tony with a measure of suspicion; that was a very rapid mood change, even for him. Still, he couldn't see any problem with Tony's suggestion and he didn't have time to figure out what the younger man was up to so he grunted his acquiescence. Tony's grin seemed to grow impossibly wider.

"Great! I'll see yah in a few, boss!" With that, he spun on his heel and strolled towards the bathroom.

Megan was in an _extremely_ bad mood, and it quickly dawned on Gibbs just why Tony had left with such a big grin on his face. The three-year-old wasn't at all happy to see Gibbs, she was even less happy to be woken up at such an unreasonable time, and she sure as hell wasn't happy that he was so insistent that she get dressed right this moment. It all started with Megan grumbling and groaning and trying to hide her face in the pillow, when Gibbs persisted she kicked him in the stomach. Fortunately, Gibbs remained unfazed – he had seen all this behavior before with Kelly, although she had preferred head-butting over kicking. He retaliated by picking her up by the armpits and set her on the floor, holding her there until she stood up on her own. Megan's face promptly twisted up and she burst into angry tears. Gibbs ignored her and began rummaging through cardboard boxes labeled 'clothes'. Returning with an outfit, Gibbs perched on the couch and pulled Megan towards him.

'_NO!'_ she signed, smacking the T-shirt out of his hand. _'No! No! No!'_

'_This is your warning, keep up that behavior and you're going on a timeout,' _Gibbs cautioned calmly.

She responded by bursting into to tears again. Retrieving the T-shirt, Gibbs set it to one side and tried to remove her pajama top but Megan clamped her arms around her chest (effectively hugging herself) and made that near impossible to do. Gibbs sighed in exasperation. _I'm gonna kill you, DiNozzo! _

'_Last warning, if you don't let me get you dressed then you're getting a timeout!' _

'_No! I want to pick my clothes! I pick, I pick!' _Megan signed angrily, stamping her foot and then throwing herself onto the couch.

Gibbs ran a hand down his face and sighed again. Getting to his feet, he picked Megan up and carried her to the corner of the room. He sat her down and forced her chin up so she was looking at him.

'_I asked you to stop that behavior and to get dressed but you didn't do as I told you, so now you have to sit in timeout for three minutes,' _Gibbs explained, his expression firm.

As Gibbs stood up and walked away, Megan let out a miserable wail and dissolved into loud, hiccupping tears. He retreated to the kitchen and set the coffeepot working, desperately needing a dose of caffeine right about now. He glanced over at Megan and was pleased that, although upset, Megan hadn't moved from the spot where he'd put her. _That's something I guess. _Three minutes later he returned to the corner where Megan sat and explained to her again exactly why he'd put her in timeout and then asked her to apologize, which she did. After a quick hug and kiss, Gibbs led the little one back to the couch to finish getting her ready; hoping her whining was at an end. Unfortunately, Megan had other ideas. Gibbs got so far as to get her out of her pajamas and into a pair of long denim shorts with little flowers embroidered down one leg, but the moment he reached for the shirt she started up again. She tried to snatch it out of his hand but when he held it out of reach she stamped her foot and insisted she get to pick out a shirt by herself. It was a battle of wills and Gibbs wasn't about to back down; he didn't have a problem with Megan picking out her own clothes but she had to learn the difference between making demands and asking politely.

'_You can either put on the shirt I picked for you or you can go in another timeout,' _Gibbs told her in a no-nonsense way. _'What's it going to be?'_

Her answer was to fly into a full blown temper tantrum. She let out an unhappy sound and threw herself to the floor, where she proceeded to thrash her arms, stamp her feet and screech in protest. Gibbs shook his head and went back to the kitchen; as he'd told DiNozzo before, the best way to handle a tantrum was to ignore it. He poured himself a large cup of coffee and took a hearty swig, smacking his lips together and making a sound of satisfaction as the rich, dark goodness slipped down his throat. As he waited for Megan to calm down, Gibbs couldn't help but notice that Tony had been gone for an _unusually_ long time, and you didn't have to be a trained federal investigator to figure out that the younger man was purposefully taking his time. Five minutes later, Megan's tantrum died down; Gibbs suspected this had something to do with a lack of energy thanks to her late night rather than any improvement in her mood. Either way, he returned to the couch and gave her the option of putting the shirt on; when she refused he had no choice but to put her into a second timeout. This time, at least, she didn't cry, just sat there with her legs splayed, her arms folded, her lower lip jutting out and a dark scowl wrinkling her forehead.

When Tony finally reappeared – freshly showered, hair expertly styled, and dressed in a pair of black jeans and a Yankees T-shirt – Gibbs was to be found on the couch with Megan sprawled out listlessly next to him, her foot propped in his lap, while he tied her shoelaces. The three-year-old had finally conceded defeat and let Gibbs dress her in the T-shirt he had picked out – which was bright green with the inscription 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good' stamped across the front in black, oddly shaped letters. Gibbs kept his gaze trained on Megan's sneaker, pretending not to notice as the younger man hesitantly edged his way around the couch.

"You sneaky bastard," he said without heat, torn between amusement and annoyance. Glancing up he saw Tony grinning from ear to ear. "You could've mentioned Megan could be a handful when it came to dressing her."

Tony laughed. "Now where would the fun be in that?"

"Didn't help that she was cranky to begin with . . . of course, you already knew that."

"Did I?" said Tony in a tone of innocence, that wasn't fooling anyone.

Gibbs shook his head, a bright grin gracing his features. "You better go rustle up a quick breakfast for the two of you so we can get going."

"On it, boss!" said Tony, standing to attention. Tossing off a sloppy salute, he spun around, and marched to the kitchen.

Gibbs let out a bark of laughter at his agent's antics and then turned his attention to Megan's other shoe. After a hasty breakfast, which consisted of strawberry Pop Tarts (something Gibbs didn't entirely approve of), the three of them left the apartment and set off down the three flights of stairs.

"We'll take your car," said Gibbs, as they entered the parking lot.

Tony nodded in response and led the way towards it. Gibbs couldn't help but smile at the sight of the bright pink, butterfly emblazoned, child's car seat now sitting directly behind the passenger's seat. Once everyone was settled and strapped in, Gibbs relayed the directions to the hardware store to Tony and off they went.

* * *

The car journey was spent in a comfortable silence, with the exception of the quiet melody coming from Megan's computer game thingamabob (which Tony had grabbed just as they were leaving) and the occasional jaw-popping yawn from a droopy eyed Tony. Megan seemed to be in a better mood now, but Gibbs wasn't fool enough to believe it would last for long, after a night like hers and given the busy day they had ahead of them, she was liable to fly into another tantrum at the slightest provocation. Gibbs gazed out the window, absentmindedly rubbing his chin while he contemplated Megan's latest tantrum. He had diffused the situation quite easily, but he couldn't help but wonder how things might have turned out if he hadn't been there. Communication between Tony and Megan was still a huge issue, and although fingerspelling was fine and good in certain circumstances it was hardly ideal, and there was only so much Tony could learn from that ASL book of his. _Think it's about time I did something about that, _he thought with a determined grunt.

"What's that, boss?" Tony asked curiously.

Gibbs hid a smile. "Nothing, Tony."

Tony had barely gotten the car parked before he had dived out the door, sprinted around the side, and opened Megan's door where he proceeded to unfasten her from the car seat. Gibbs blinked in surprise, then snorted in amusement as he slipped off his own seatbelt and stepped out of the car. It took Tony at least five minutes to wrestle Megan's gizmo off her, which resulted in a loud miserable whine but thankfully not another tantrum.

"I want your eyes on me today, Tony."

"Huh?" Tony said eloquently, staring at him in confusion.

"Sign language, Tony, I'm gonna teach yah to sign; best way to learn is to see how's it's done." Tony blinked at him in wide-eyed astonishment. "Now I'm gonna talk and sign at the same, so pay attention, if I go too fast or you want me to repeat something just tell me. Got it?"

"Uh . . . got it, boss," said Tony, looking rather bemused.

"_**Come on then,"**_ said Gibbs, signing the words as promised. He took Megan's hand and started towards the hardware store, smirking when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Tony imitating the signs a few paces behind them.

Gibbs expertly led them through the aisles, dropping supplies such as paintbrushes, rollers, paint trays, two canvas drop cloths, painter's tape, and a bottle of turpentine into the small shopping cart he had grabbed upon entering. Megan skipped along ahead of them, occasionally stopping to investigate something on the shelves that caught her interest. Before long they reached the paint section. Stepping around the cart, Gibbs crouched down in front of Megan, glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure he had Tony's undivided attention, and then lifted his hands to begin to sign.

"_**What's you're favorite color?"**_ he asked.

"That's purple . . . and that's green," he translated, when Megan replied. _**"Which one do you like best?"**_ Megan clamped her tongue between her teeth and smiled as she thought about it. "Green," he said when Megan repeated the sign for green. _**"What kind of green do you like? Dark green or light green?"**_ In response Megan pointed at her T-shirt. _**"Bright green?"**_ She nodded. _**"O-K, let's see what we can find."**_

He stood up, wincing as his knee popped, and began searching the shelves of emulsion for something suitable. It took about ten minutes for him to find a vinyl matt emulsion that came pretty close to the color of Megan's shirt. He pulled it off the shelf and held it up for Tony to see.

"Whaddaya think?" he asked his SFA, unable to sign since his hands were full.

Tony leaned forward and examined the paint can with a slight grimace. "I suppose it could be worse . . . at least it's not bright orange."

Gibbs laughed. "I happen to like orange."

Tony grinned. "That explains that wristwatch of yours, and here I thought you were just trying to blend in with the NCIS building."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Funny," he said sarcastically. Crouching down again, he settled the paint can on his knees where Megan could see it. _**"How's this? Like it?"**_

Megan nodded, and then bit her lower lip. _'What's it for?'_

Gibbs echoed the question for Tony's benefit. _**"It's for your new bedroom,"**_ he explained.

Gibbs had thought she'd be excited by the idea but if anything she just looked surprised. _'Where's my new bedroom going to be?'_ she asked, and he could see the hesitation in those big, expressive eyes of hers. _Does she really think we're still going to get rid of her?_ His gut churned at the very thought of it. Reluctantly, he repeated her question for Tony, who was gazing at them with curiosity. He looked up in time to see an expression of pain flash across Tony's face.

Biting back a sigh, Gibbs smiled at Megan reassuringly. _**"At Daddy's house,"**_ he told her.

Hands twisting in her shirt, Megan tilted her head up towards her father who returned her gaze with a small smile curling his lips. Gibbs wasn't fooled however; he could tell that Tony was still upset that she doubted him. He stood again, giving the younger man's shoulder a gentle squeeze. They spent a few more minutes perusing the shelves, selecting a basecoat for the walls, a white matt emulsion for the ceiling, an undercoat and a white satin wood paint for the door and windowsill. Stacking everything in the shopping cart, the three of them set off to pay for their purchases. Tony was very subdued by the time they got back to the car. He sat behind the steering wheel for several minutes staring into space.

"Tony?" said Gibbs, trying to draw Tony out of whatever headspace he was currently lost in.

The younger man took a few minutes to respond. "She still thinks I'm gonna abandon her, doesn't she?" he asked forlornly.

"It's only been six days, Tony," he reminded him. "Any kid would be anxious after what she's been through. We're gonna help her through it, all of us, we're gonna make her feel safe again and fixing up this bedroom will help make her feel more secure."

Tony was silent for a moment. "Okay," he said with slight nod. He shot Gibbs a grateful smile, before turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of their parking spot.

* * *

"Gibbs! Tony! Over here!" Abby yelled gleefully, jumping up and down on the spot and waving her arms in the air so they could see her; not that it was particularly difficult to notice a grown woman kitted out in black T-shirt with a neon green skeleton emblazoned on the front, a dangerously high red checked mini skirt, knee-high white socks, and shiny, red leather platform boots.

Gibbs, who'd just stepped out of the car, gave a little wave in greeting. He turned to Tony, who seemed to be taking a little longer than last time to unfasten Megan from her car seat.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"What's our escape plan, boss?"

"What?"

"Our escape plan," Tony reiterated. "Incase Abby goes all 'shopping-spree' on us. How do we get out of _there_ alive?" he asked, jerking a thumb in the general direction of the mall.

Gibbs stared at his senior field agent incredulously. "Do you really think we need an escape plan?"

"Do you really think we don't?" Tony shot back, glancing sharply over his shoulder.

"What's taking you guys so long? Come on, let's GOOOOO!" they heard Abby bellow.

Tony seemed to pale slightly. "Oh no, sounds like she's already had a few Caf-Pows . . . this is going to be worse than the time I asked her to help me pick out a new couch!"

"Don't be such a drama queen, DiN–!" Gibbs was abruptly cut off as Tony dropped to his knees on the tarmac and grabbed a hold of Gibbs' shirt, almost dragging him to the ground too. "_DiNozzo!_" he barked furiously.

"Four hours!" Tony cried desperately, a slightly unhinged expression on his face. "FOUR HOURS, I was in that _damn_ store, boss! I'd already picked one I liked after the first twenty minutes, but Abby just kept making us walk around the whole store again and again! We sat on _every_ couch, sometimes more than once! She talked to _three_ different shop assistants who all told her the same thing until she _finally_ let me buy the one I'd originally picked! I _can't_ go through that again, _please_, boss, we _need_ an escape plan!"

"For Christ sake, get a grip, Tony!" Gibbs growled, glancing around to be sure no-one could see him in this ridiculous position, with Tony clutching at him at him like a starving man begging for food.

"Please, boss, I can't go in there without an escape plan!" Tony all but howled.

"HELLOOO! Guys, do I need to come over there and get you?" Abby called out. Tony squeaked in alarm.

"Alright, _alright!_" Gibbs hissed, trying to wrench himself free from Tony's grasp. "If Abby goes off the deep end with this damn shopping trip, we'll make some sort of excuse like we need to hit the head, or want to go to the food-court, hell if I need to I'll cause a diversion and we can run for it! Now will you _please_ get UP!"

"I'm so glad we got that settled!" Tony said cheerfully, in a completely normal and sane manner. He climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his knees while Gibbs clenched his jaw, realizing he'd just been played.

"DiNozzo, I'm going to _kill_ you!" he whispered threateningly.

Tony flashed a cheeky grin as he lifted Megan from the car. "You probably will, boss, but it was totally worth it to see the look on your face," he said with a laugh. "I was serious though; this could get ugly," he added, referring to shopping with Abby.

Locking the car they began to make their way across the parking lot to where Abby was standing next to the entrance. "Did you really spend four hours in that furniture store?" Gibbs asked warily.

"Well . . . might have been closer to two hours, but it felt like four! And remember we we're just shopping for one item that day . . . just imagine what it will be like shopping for a whole bedroom!"

Gibbs really wished Tony hadn't added that last part.

Abby ran the last few feet to meet them and almost knocked Gibbs and Tony's skulls together when she enveloped them in one of her Abby-style bear hugs.

"YAY!" she cried loudly in their ears. "Today is going to be so much fun!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes at her exuberance but returned the embrace just the same, ignoring the funny looks they were getting from people walking past. At length she pulled back, a broad grin stretching her dark red lips.

"What took you so long?" she asked. Without giving them a chance to respond she turned her attention on Megan, ducking down and giving her a much gentler hug. "Aww cute Harry Potter shirt!" she said as she pulled back and then started signing.

"Huh?" said Gibbs and Tony.

"'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'?," she said, reading the words off Megan's shirt, and staring at them as if they should recognize the quote. Gibbs and Tony stared back at her blankly. "It's from the Marauder's Map?"

"The what?" asked Tony.

"Geez! You two really need to read more!"

"I'm not reading anything about teenage wizards, Abs," Tony said bluntly.

"It's not just about teenage wizards," Abby protested. "It's about the power of love, and friendship, and bravery, about prejudice and bigotry, and of course tolerance, the struggle between good and evil, and having free choice, but mostly I suppose it's about death," Abby finished as they made their way towards the double glass doors of the mall.

"Oh that sounds cheerful," Tony said sarcastically, as he held the door open for the others to step through.

"No, Tony, I don't mean in a depressing –" she broke off suddenly with a loud gasp, coming to a abrupt halt, causing Tony to almost collide with her.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked in concern.

"I've just had the most _amazing_ idea!" Abby exclaimed, whirling around to face them, eyes dancing with excitement.

"Why does my gut tell me I'm not going to like this idea?" Tony said with a small grimace, taking a step back.

Gibbs had to concur with Tony, his gut too was churning with dread at the expression currently on the young Goth's face.

"A Harry Potter themed birthday party!" Abby all but shrieked, startling a couple of pensioners who happened to be walking by.

Gibbs suppressed a groan.

"Oh boy," Tony muttered. "When you're right you're right," he added, apparently addressing his midsection.

"C'mon you guys it'll be so much fun! We can all dress up!"

"Dress up?" Tony said incredulously. "Do I look like McGeek to you? There's no way in hell I'm dressing up as a fairy!"

"Of course not," Abby said with a bright grin. "You can dress up as a wizard!"

Tony's only response to that was an undignified squeak. Mouth gaping, he turned imploringly towards Gibbs his expression quite clearly stating: _'do something about this, she'll listen to you!'_ Gibbs suppressed another groan. _Why do I always get caught in the middle of these things?_

"Oh, come on you guys, pleeeeasse!" she begged unashamedly, clasping her hands together and clutching them to her chest to emphasis her point. "Just think how happy it will make Megan!"

Tony's whole body seemed to sag in defeat. "Fiiiiiiiiine!" he growled in annoyance.

Abby cheered, and almost knocked Tony over with the force of the hug she gave him.

Gibbs smirked, and shook his head slightly. "I hope you don't cave this easily to Megan when she starts making demands," he chuckled.

"Low blow, boss," Tony pouted.

Gibbs flashed him a quick grin. "C'mon, let's get going, still got a whole bedroom to shop for."

"Yay!" Abby cried happily, taking Megan by the hand and leading the way through the bustling crowds.

Walking at Gibbs' side, Tony leaned over and muttered: "Ten bucks says Abby can make you to dress up like a wizard at this little shindig she's planning."

Gibbs glanced at his senior field agent, eyebrow arched, half-smile playing about his mouth. "You're on," he said confidently, sealing the bet with a quick handshake.

* * *

_Hope that'll hold yah until I can finish the rest. Also hope I got the paint terms right, I'm not exactly all that experienced with decorating._

_regards, All Hail Hufflepuff :)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Apology: **_*Slowly drags my sorry ass out of hibernation* HOLY CRAP it's been a loooong time since I last updated! I'm so sorry guys! I never intended for this hiatus to get so out of hand, hell, I never planned on having a hiatus at all, it just sort of . . . happened. You can lay most of the blame at the feet of my new job - my tedious, tiring, soul-destroying job *sigh*. I'm working night-shift now which has been a lot more difficult to adjust to than I imagined, it's also been eating into the time I used to spend writing. The rest of the blame goes to writer's block, general tiredness, and an energetic border collie puppy who I've been raising these past few months. Okay enough with my lame excuses, again just let me say how sorry I am that I've kept you waiting so long. I wish this chapter was longer and that I had been able to progress in the story a little more but I've been stressing about how long it's been since my last update so I thought I would just give you this chapter as it is. I will try my very best to give you some more regular updates and if I start slipping like this again you have my permission to send me a message to hurry me along. Hope this chapter was worth the wait :(_

**Chapter Fourteen**

Barely twenty minutes after agreeing to Abby's absurd Harry Potter themed birthday party, Tony was already starting to regret it, the main reason being she just wouldn't shut up about it! They'd been wandering around the furniture store for ten minutes now and Abby had spent all of that time yammering on and on about things like what costumes she should get, how she could get her hands on 'authentic' Harry Potter food such as chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's every flavored beans (whatever the hell that was!), where she might get Harry Potter themed decorations and party favors, the likelihood of renting a real life owl for the day (Tony had shot her an incredulous look at that one), whether or not the cake should be in the shape of a spell book, a wizard's hat, Hedwig (whoever that was), or Hogwarts castle and so on and so forth. All of this was occasionally broken by exclamations of 'Oh look at this!' or 'Aww how sweet is this?!' as a piece of furniture caught her attention. Tony's head was beginning to feel like it was about to explode. _Please shut up, please shut up, PLEASE shut up,_ he chanted silently, trying his best to focus his attention on the range of 'Junior beds' (as Abby had dubbed them) that they were currently inspecting. Tearing his eyes away from a tiny little bed shaped like a blue racing car, Tony searched for Gibbs who had wandered further ahead of them with Megan, out of earshot of Abby's endless rambling. Tony glared at the older man's back. _Get back here so I don't have to suffer this verbal torture alone!_ Apparently sensing his gaze, Gibbs suddenly glanced over his shoulder and seeing the look on Tony's face flashed him a quick smirk and deliberately walked a little further away. _Bastard! _

"I can't decide whether I should go as Hermione or Luna …" Abby was saying, her voice suddenly penetrating Tony's thoughts. Tony rolled his eyes. "I mean they're two of my favorite female characters, they're both so smart and unafraid to be themselves, especially Luna, which is certainly something I can relate to . . . but how do you choose between the two?!" She was silent for an all too brief moment. "I suppose I may have more in common with Luna, I mean she's so open-minded, maybe too – what are you doing?" she suddenly asked Tony, who for the last few seconds had been closely inspecting the back of her neck.

_Looking for the off switch, _he felt like saying. "Nothing," he answered instead, in a falsely bright voice.

Abby eyed him suspiciously for a moment or two, then shrugged and turned away. Tony winced in preparation when he saw her take a large intake of breath to continue her speech, but to his relief she let it out in a gasp as she spotted something. Latching onto his elbow she pushed him towards a small, pink canopy bed.

"No!" he snapped bluntly, before she even had a chance to coo at the pink, frilly monstrosity. He remembered all too clearly the nightmares he'd had as a child thanks to his own canopy bed and there was no way in hell he was going to put Megan through that, no matter what Abby said to try and persuade him.

"Oh but, Tony, it's so –!"

"No."

"But don't you think –?"

"No!"

"Oh but Megan will –!"

"NO!"

"Why are you being so –?!"

"No!"

"I wasn't even going to ask that –!"

"No!"

"_Tony!_"

"No!" Tony repeated yet again, this time with a small smile as Abby stamped her foot in frustration. She gave him one of her most blistering glares – clearly hoping it would be enough to sway him – but Tony just stared right back, wearing a grin that could only be described as infuriating. _Ah! Payback's a bitch,_ he thought smugly.

"What if it was in a different color?" she tried again.

"No, Abby!" he snapped, switching from amused to annoyed in a matter of seconds. He tried pulling his arm free from the forensic scientist's grip, but Abby just tightened her fingers around his elbow, holding him in place.

"Gibbs!" she cried out loudly, earning herself a round of dirty looks from some of the other customers.

Tony rolled his eyes and ground his teeth as Gibbs and Megan slowly approached them. He jerked him arm, hoping to break free of Abby's iron grip, and sagged in defeat when the attempt was unsuccessful.

"What's up, Abs?" Gibbs asked carefully, taking in the sullen expression on Tony's face.

"What do you think of this bed?" she asked sweetly.

Tony almost choked on the growl of annoyance that was trying to escape his throat.

Gibbs' expression remained impassive as he examined the little canopy bed. "What does Tony think?"

Abby's expression soured at the question. "Tony's being completely stubborn about it, he won't even consider it!"

"Well don't you think it's Tony's decision to make?" Gibbs asked gently.

"Ha!" Tony said triumphantly.

"Why?! It's not like he's going to sleep in it!" Abby continued stubbornly.

"Just let it go, Abs," Gibbs said.

But Abby wasn't ready to let it go just yet. Releasing Tony, she set her sights on Megan.

"_Abby!_" Gibbs barked warningly, as she ducked down to sign to Megan.

Abby ignored him and Tony didn't need a translator to know what she was asking the little girl. He clenched his fists in frustration and glared at the woman before him. Megan turned her head toward the canopy bed, studied it for a moment and then slowly returned her gaze to Abby, her face twisted in disgust. Tony wasn't exactly sure what she signed in response but it was clearly something along the lines of 'yuck!' Tony crowed in triumph while Abby gaped at Megan in shock.

"Aha! I _love_ this child!" he cried happily, swooping down and lifting Megan into his arms and giving her a big celebratory hug. He was too preoccupied to notice the astonished looks he got from both Gibbs and Abby. When he finally calmed down and set a bemused looking Megan back on the ground, he turned to Gibbs, a wide, smug grin stretching his mouth. "So, which bed do you think we should get, boss?"

Gibbs stared at him for several minutes, his expression unreadable, before finally turning away and gazing at the selection of little beds. "To be honest, Tony, these are all useless," he said at length.

"But, Gibbs!" Abby immediately protested, springing out of her crouched position. "These are all aimed at Megan's age group!"

"Yeah, and have you any idea how quick she's gonna outgrow one of these things?" he challenged. "You need something that's gonna last."

"Oh," Abby said despondently.

Gibbs tilted his head to the side, indicating they should follow him, and set off towards some of the larger children's beds. Tony patted Abby consolingly on the back as they trailed after Gibbs, and in return she gave him a small apologetic smile. Gibbs led them along a row of beds and stopped next to a beautiful little wooden sleigh bed with short side rails, which Megan immediately clambered onto; a big grin on her face.

"Megan likes this one," Gibbs explained unnecessarily, smiling as Megan gently bounced on the bare mattress.

"Aww! It's so cute!" Abby exclaimed.

Gibbs and Tony shared a look and then rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Well, it's not pink, it's not frilly, it's not bright green or orange, and Megan likes it . . . I'll take it!"

"Are you sure, Tony? You haven't even looked at any of the others, this one is really nice too," Abby interrupted, peering at the next bed over.

"_Abby!_" Gibbs and Tony barked in unison.

"What?! It was just a suggestion!"

* * *

While Tony was busy with one of the store clerks, ordering the bed and arranging for it to be delivered to his apartment later that day, Gibbs and the girls wandered around, perusing through the other children's furniture. Abby was rambling on about her party plans and Gibbs was pretending to listen. Suddenly Megan broke away from them and made a beeline for the most extraordinary piece of furniture Gibbs had ever seen before. It was a loud – for that the only word that could describe it – turquoise blue dresser that looked like it had jumped right out of a cartoon. It had three chunky drawers, all of which had curved edges that gave the impression that they were all sitting slightly lopsided, and two big round handles on each drawer; perfect for little hands to open. The sides of the dresser also curved inwards, making it look like they'd been squashed together like a lump of clay. It was by far the most bizarre piece of furniture he'd ever encountered and that was saying something, considering he'd lived through the seventies. Yet if Megan's delighted expression was anything to go by, then it was clearly the perfect next addition to her new room.

"Wow!" exclaimed Abby. "That's awesome! Look how bright it is!"

Gibbs crouched down in front of Megan, grimacing as his bad knee protested. _'You like that?'_ he asked.

Megan nodded emphatically. _'It's a pretty color and I like the shape,'_ she explained.

Gibbs grinned. _'You like things that stand out, don't you?'_

Megan just gave him a big megawatt grin in response and Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He stood up, ruffled Megan's hair, and then turned to Abby still with a smile plastered across his face. "You better go find Tony and let him know we just found a dresser."

"Ooh, this is gonna be good!" said Abby, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation.

Gibbs chuckled again as she skipped off to find Tony. A few minutes later Tony was standing next to Gibbs, staring at the bright, turquoise blue, cartoon-shaped dresser with a slightly horrified expression on his face. Gibbs bit his tongue in an effort to stop from laughing.

"But," Tony spluttered at length, gesturing at the dresser, clearly distressed. "It – it won't match!" He looked helplessly at Gibbs, and it took all of Gibbs' self-restraint to keep a neutral expression on his face. "I mean . . . we want it to match, right? After all, I'm buying that nice bed and . . . I mean, c'mon _look_ at it! _Jesus_ . . . it's . . . it's …" he trailed off, and Gibbs could see him taking in the excited expression on Megan's little face. Tony scrubbed a hand over his face, and with his eyes still covered he sighed and asked: "How much is it?" Gibbs couldn't hold it back anymore, and was unable to stop the burst of laughter that escaped him. A second later Abby joined him, and Tony groaned, while Megan stared at all three of them in bemusement.

'_What's so funny?' _she asked.

Gibbs and Abby laughed harder.

* * *

_Good God, what is this bedroom going to look like when we're done?!_ These were the thoughts of one Anthony DiNozzo as he made the final arrangements for more furniture to be delivered to his apartment. They were in their third furniture store of the day and Tony was purchasing the last of the essential bedroom furniture. Tony was still reeling over some of the things Megan had picked out, a list that included a bubblegum pink toy box that also doubled as a bench, a little red bookcase, a bright purple bedside table, a storage unit with multicolored bins, a little lilac wardrobe, and a banana yellow baby rocking chair (which admittedly, was rather adorable). Tony couldn't help but worry that Megan's bedroom was doomed to look ridiculous; surely even a child's bedroom should have some sort of consistent theme, such as matching furniture for example! _Oh God! How do I let myself get talked into these things?!_ Gibbs and Abby, on the other hand, seemed to find the entire situation terribly amusing; each time Megan picked out another outrageous item, they would shoot him sly sidelong looks, Abby bursting into fits of giggles while Gibbs either chuckled or smirked that infuriating smirk of his. Despite his reservations, Tony couldn't deny that Megan seemed genuinely pleased with her choices and he supposed that was what really mattered; it wasn't as if he was going to have to live in the room after all.

"So, where to next?" he asked, as they stepped out of the store and into the bustling crowds milling around the mall.

"Follow me, I know the perfect little store where we can get all of Megan's bedding," said Abby, taking charge of the situation and looping arms with both Tony and Gibbs.

Tony smiled indulgently at his friend. Ignoring the funny looks they were attracting, Tony held Megan's little hand snuggly within his own and allowed Abby to drag him along to their destination, all the while resisting the urge to belt out a rendition of 'We're off to see the Wizard'. Abby led them to a small, quirky store named _The Patchwork Owl_, which featured – unsurprisingly – a number of patchwork owl cushions in the window, along with other animal-shaped cushions, two handsome patchwork quilts, a child sized manikin dressed in what appeared to be a handmade outfit, and a collection of wooden toys. Tony glanced down at Megan just in time to see her face light up as she clapped eyes on the storefront display.

"This place is awesome!" Abby said enthusiastically, as they stepped through the door. "Everything you see here," she released Gibbs and Tony so she could gesture empathically with her hands, "is handmade! You won't find any factory made, off the shelf items here, everything has been lovingly and painstakingly handcrafted for our shopping pleasure!"

"Yeah, we get it, Abs," Tony said over his shoulder, as Megan dragged him over to a display of unusual, fabric dolls.

"Oh, I love these!" Abby cried, rushing over to the dolls too.

As the girls gushed over the dolls, Tony stood with his hands in his pockets, and glanced around at the store. It was arranged in a rather higgledy-piggledy fashion; there were mismatching tables scattered around the spacious area, each one showing off a different display, one was adorned with a collection of quilts and blankets (some patchwork, some knitted, and some crocheted), another was piled with cushions of various shapes and styles, including the infamous patchwork owls, a group of teddies occupied a small table in the corner, while an assortment of purses and bags took up space on another. The walls were lined with shelves – packed with more quilts, and cushions, children's books, toys and various other things – and clothes racks, where a selection of baby and children's clothes hung; each item unique from the rest. On the wall to his left, stood a tall, wooden cabinet where all the handmade wooden toys were proudly displayed. It was this that had attracted Gibbs' formidable attention, and he stood before it, hands clasped behind his back, examining the little planes, trucks and animals.

"You know this place is pretty cool," Tony remarked, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Abby beamed at him, and entwined their arms; giving him a little squeeze. "Isn't it the best?" she said cheerfully. "Aren't you glad you have an _amazing_ friend like me who brings you to such great places!"

"I'm not changing my mind about the canopy bed, Abby," Tony said sarcastically, a comment that earned him a punch to the chest.

"Way to ruin the moment, Tony!" she said, giving him a mock glare. Tony merely laughed in response.

They spent a good hour browsing through the store and by the end of it they had purchased a gorgeous rainbow striped quilt with a matching pillow, a set of very pretty bed sheets with embroidered butterflies, and three cushions that Megan (and Abby) insisted she must have – they included a pink patchwork owl, a blue and purple star, and a regular square shaped one which was white with multicolored polka dots. Tony had also picked out one of the little handmade dresses (simply because it was too adorable to resist) and one of the dolls that Megan had been admiring, both of which he intended to give to her on her birthday.

Loaded down with bags, they rejoined the busy crowds, and followed Abby as she marched purposefully toward their next destination, which turned out to be a large department store. According to Abby they still had "lots and lots" more to buy for Megan's bedroom. Tony wasn't entirely sure what else they could possibly need, I mean they had the paint, and the furniture and the bedding, so what the heck else did a nearly four-year-old need? Of course Abby soon caught him up to speed. She marched them from one department to the next, up escalators and down escalators, along aisle upon aisle as she sought out the items she had deemed 'essential', all the while barking at them to keep up like some sort of deranged army drill sergeant. Among the items they picked up were a children's bedside lamp with a green stem, and pink shade, with little foam butterflies and flowers stuck on it, a growth chart shaped like a giraffe that would hang on Megan's wall, a set of fairy lights (of all things) which they were apparently going to hang around the head of Megan's bed (for some reason, Tony still wasn't exactly clear why though), a packet of glow in the dark stars which apparently you stuck to the ceiling of the child's room, a set of bright yellow curtains which Tony had some serious reservations about, a packet of wall stickers shaped like (_more_) butterflies and flowers, and purely by chance they found a little wall banner with the Hogwarts crest printed on it (a discovery that caused Abby to shriek in delight, and Megan to hop up and down on the spot in excitement).

By the time they had paid for everything, and lumbered out of the store with all their purchases like a herd of pack mules, it was midday and Gibbs and Tony were both growing increasingly impatient and irritable with their excitable, and apparently tireless, forensic scientist. Abby – completely oblivious to her friends' bad moods – tested their fraying tempers even further when she suddenly expressed a desire to do a little clothes shopping before lunch. Before either man had a chance to respond to this (in their opinion) _outrageous_ proposal, Abby had steered them towards a store with a dark, creepy exterior and disappeared inside, towing Megan along behind her. The two special agents shared an exasperated look and followed her inside. The store was dark and cramped, and had a wide range of Gothic clothing and accessories on offer, such as skull-emblazoned T-shirts, leather jackets, studded dog collars, platform boots, checked skirts and pants and basically everything else that Abby found fashionable. The store was empty apart from them and a bored looking clerk with red and black hair, and various facial piercings, who was slouched over the counter, texting on his cell. Abby had apparently already spotted something she liked, for she gave a cry of delight and a shout of "Back in a minute!" and then disappeared into the tiny changing room, leaving Gibbs, Tony and Megan to stand about awkwardly outside waiting for her. Several minutes passed before Tony's patience snapped and he turned to Gibbs with a beseeching look on his face.

"_Boss!_" he whined. "I'm tired, and hungry, and my feet _hurt_, and these bags are starting to cut the circulation off to my fingers! Can't you make Abby stop this madness so we can go somewhere and rest! Like the food-court, please I'm _starving!_"

"You also sound like whiny five-year-old!" Gibbs snapped tersely.

"I don't care!" Tony replied in the same tone, and to prove his point he stamped his foot and stuck out his bottom lip.

The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched. "You're not the only one whose hungry, DiNozzo, or whose feet hurt."

"Then use the escape plan, boss, please, I'm _begging_ you! Save us! Don't let it end like this!" Tony said dramatically.

Gibbs stared at Tony with one eyebrow arched, a small smirk playing about his mouth. "Abby!" he suddenly barked, causing Tony to jump in surprise.

"Just a minute!" she called back airily. A moment later she reappeared, wearing a black dress with spaghetti straps, which laced up in the front, and had a design of silver spider webs going down the skirt, which showed off a good portion of her long legs. "Whaddaya think?"

"Mmm," Gibbs grunted, sweeping his gaze around the store.

"Great," said Tony, sparing her just a fleeting glance and staring longingly at the door.

"You barely looked!" she accused.

Both men bit back sighs and cast their eyes over Abby's outfit.

"Mmm," said Gibbs, adding in a little nod for good measure.

"Lovely," said Tony in the same bored voice, his eyes drifting back to the door.

Abby stamped her foot. "You guys suck at this!"

"Why do yah think I've been divorced three times, Abs?" Gibbs said sarcastically. "Listen, we're gonna grab something to eat–"

"Yeah, 'cause we're starving to death in here!" Tony interrupted hotly.

Gibbs glared at the younger man until Tony had the sense to look contrite, before turning back to Abby and continuing. "So why don't you finish up here and we'll meet yah at the food-court."

"Oh, okay, I'll see you there in like ten minutes," she turned toward the changing room and then paused. "You know, if you guys were so hungry you shoulda just said something."

Gibbs and Tony shared another exasperated look as Abby vanished into the changing room for a second time, and then with a synchronized eye roll, they left the store, leading Megan along beside them.

* * *

"Oh thank you, God!" Tony cried in relief, as he collapsed into one of the plastic chairs at the food-court.

With a grimace, he untangled his fingers from the torture devices commonly known as shopping bag handles, and dumped the bags on either side of his chair. He gave a weary groan and collapsed face first onto the table before him, and lay there, unmoving. The sound of rustling told him that Gibbs had also set his bags down, and the squeaking scrape that followed it, informed him that Megan had been placed in the seat next to his.

"Anything in particular you wanna eat?" Gibbs asked.

"No. So long as it's not green and leafy I'll eat it," Tony replied, his voice muffled slightly by the tabletop.

He heard Gibbs chuckle. "Gotcha. Be right back."

A small giggle had Tony turning his face to the side and peering up at Megan, who was leant over the table watching him, amusement plain on her face.

"Gimme a break," he grumbled good-naturedly, "I'm a lot older than you, and besides, men have been scientifically proven to have a low-tolerance rate for excessive amounts of shopping . . . particularly if a woman is in charge of said shopping trip."

"Is that so?"

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin. "Geez, Abby!" he hissed, as she and Megan laughed. "Warn a person before you sneak up on them like that!"

"Well that would defeat the purpose of sneaking up on a person, now wouldn't it?" she replied smugly, sitting herself down on one of the remaining seats.

Tony grumbled incoherently under his breath. He sat up and laid his chin in his hand, staring across the table at Abby, who was sitting in an identical position.

"So," Abby said at length. "You don't like it when I take charge of a shopping trip, huh?"

Tony's eyes widened. He gave one of his nervous laughs. "Did I say that? I-I didn't say that, I mean…" Abby arched a thin, black eyebrow skeptically. "Okay, I guess I kinda said that . . . but I didn't mean it in a bad way . . . you see, what I was trying to say was . . . err . . . what I meant was…"

"Grub's up!" said Gibbs, suddenly appearing at Tony's shoulder with a tray of food.

"Oh, _thank_ God!" said Tony, with a sigh of relief. "Perfect timing as usual, boss." Gibbs snorted and sat down, setting the tray on the table. "Burgers and fries, sweet!" Breaking eye contact with Abby, Tony reached forward and grabbed two burgers, passing one to Megan, and stuffing his face with the other. "Fanx, 'oss!" he said with his mouth full.

Gibbs chuckled. "You're welcome," he said, taking a large bite out of his own burger.

"Thank you, Gibbs," Abby said sweetly, "but you know, there's a perfectly good tofu stand just over there that you could've got lunch from." Tony and Gibbs both paused mid-chew, to stare blankly across the table at the smiling face of the forensic scientist. "What?" she said cheerfully, after a moment's silence. "I'm just looking out for your wellbeing by suggesting a healthier option," she added, taking a delicate bite out of a French fry.

Tony and Gibbs began chewing again, continuing to stare at their friend. Then, very deliberately, Gibbs set his burger down and turned toward Megan, a serious expression on his face as he signed something to her. Whatever he had said must have been funny because Megan giggled around the three French fries currently stuffed in her mouth.

"_Gibbs!_" Abby gasped, staring at the ex-Marine with a scandalized expression on her face.

Gibbs picked up his burger again, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"What? What'd you say?" Tony asked curiously, looking between the two.

"He just told her never to accept 'strange food' from me, '_especially_ tofu!'" Abby said incredulously.

Tony couldn't have prevented the bark of laughter that escaped him even if he'd tried.


End file.
